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The South Pole, Volume 2

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On account of getting on the right course, we preferred that the
start should take place in clear weather. The fact was that we were
obliged to go round by the depot in 80° S. As King Edward Land lies to
the east, or rather north-east, of Framheim, this was a considerable
detour; it had to be made, because in September we had left at this
depot all the packed sledging provisions, a good deal of our personal
equipment, and, finally, some of the necessary instruments.

On the way to the depot, about thirty geographical miles south of
Framheim, we had the nasty crevassed surface that had been met with for
the first time on the third depot journey in the autumn of 1911 -- in
the month of April. At that time we came upon it altogether unawares,
and it was somewhat remarkable that we escaped from it with the loss
of two dogs. This broken surface lay in a depression about a mile to
the west of the route originally marked out; but, however it may have
been, it seems ever since that time to have exercised an irresistible
attraction. On our first attempt to go south, in September, 1911,
we came right into the middle of it, in spite of the fact that it
was then perfectly clear. I afterwards heard that in spite of all
their efforts, the southern party, on their last trip, landed in this
dangerous region, and that one man had a very narrow escape of falling
in with sledge and dogs. I had no wish to expose myself to the risk of
such accidents -- at any rate, while we were on familiar ground. That
would have been a bad beginning to my first independent piece of work
as a Polar explorer. A day or two of fine weather to begin with would
enable us to follow the line originally marked out, and thus keep
safe ground under our feet until the ugly place was passed.

In the opening days of November the weather conditions began to
improve somewhat; in any case, there was not the continual driving
snow. Lindström asked us before we left to bring up a sufficient
quantity of seals, to save him that work as long as possible. The
supply we had had during the winter was almost exhausted; there was
only a certain amount of blubber left. We thought it only fair to
accede to his wish, as it is an awkward business to transport those
heavy beasts alone, especially when one has only a pack of unbroken
puppies to drive. We afterwards heard that Lindström had some amusing
experiences with them during the time he was left alone.

Leaving the transport out of the question, this seal-hunting is a
very tame sport. An old Arctic hand or an Eskimo would certainly be
astounded to see the placid calm with which the Antarctic seal allows
itself to be shot and cut up. To them Antarctica would landed in this
dangerous region, and that one man had a very narrow escape of falling
in with sledge and dogs. I had no wish to expose myself to the risk of
such accidents -- at any rate, while we were on familiar ground. That
would have been a bad beginning to my first independent piece of work
as a Polar explorer. A day or two of fine weather to begin with would
enable us to follow the line originally marked out, and thus keep
safe ground under our feet until the ugly place was passed.

In the opening days of November the weather conditions began to
improve somewhat; in any case, there was not the continual driving
snow. Lindström asked us before we left to bring up a sufficient
quantity of seals, to save him that work as long as possible. The
supply we had had during the winter was almost exhausted; there was
only a certain amount of blubber left. We thought it only fair to
accede to his wish, as it is an awkward business to transport those
heavy beasts alone, especially when one has only a pack of unbroken
puppies to drive. We afterwards heard that Lindström had some amusing
experiences with them during the time he was left alone.

Leaving the transport out of the question, this seal-hunting is a
very tame sport. An old Arctic hand or an Eskimo would certainly
be astounded to see the placid calm with which the Antarctic seal
allows itself to be shot and cut up. To them Antarctica would but
it seldom removes itself many yards at a time, for the motions of
the seal are just as clumsy and slow on land as they are active and
swift in the water. When it has crawled with great pains to a little
distance, there is no sign that the interruption has made any lasting
impression on it. It looks more as if it took it all as an unpleasant
dream or nightmare, which it would be best to sleep off as soon as
possible. If one shoots a single seal, this may happen without those
lying round so much as raising their heads. Indeed, we could open
and cut up a seal right before the noses of its companions without
this making the slightest impression on them.

About the beginning of November the seals began to have their young. So
far as we could make out, the females kept out of the water for
several days without taking any food, until the young one was big
enough to be able to go to sea; otherwise, it did not seem that the
mothers cared very much for their little ones. Some, it is true, made
a sort of attempt to protect their offspring if they were disturbed,
but the majority simply left their young ones in the lurch.

As far as we were concerned, we left the females and their young
as much as possible in peace. We killed two or three new-born seals
to get the skins for our collection. It was another matter with the
dogs. With them seal-hunting was far too favourite a sport for the
opportunity to be neglected. Against a full-grown seal, however,
they could do nothing; its body offered no particularly vulnerable
spots, and the thick, tight-fitting skin was too much even for dogs'
teeth. The utmost the rascals could accomplish was to annoy and
torment the object of their attack. It was quite another matter when
the young ones began to arrive. Among this small game the enterprising
hunters could easily satisfy their inborn craving for murder, for the
scoundrels only killed for the sake of killing; they were not at all
hungry, as they had as much food as they liked. Of course, we did all
we could to put a stop to this state of things, and so long as there
were several of us at the hut, we saw that the whole pack was tied up;
but when Lindström was left by himself, he could not manage to hold
them fast. His tents were altogether snowed under in the weather that
prevailed on the seaboard in December. There were not many dogs left
in his charge, but I am afraid those few wrought great havoc among the
young seals out on the ice of the bay. The poor mothers could hardly
have done anything against a lot of dogs, even if they had been more
courageous. Their enemies were too active. For them it was the work
of a moment to snatch the young one from the side of its mother,
and then they were able to take the poor thing's life undisturbed.

Unfortunately, there were no sea-leopards in the neighbourhood of
Framheim. These, which are far quicker in their movements than the
Weddell seal, and are, moreover, furnished with a formidable set of
teeth, would certainly have made the four-footed seal-hunters more
careful in their behaviour.

After we had brought up to the house enough seals' carcasses to keep
the ten or twelve dogs that would be left supplied for a good while,
and had cut up a sufficient quantity for our own use on the way to 80°
S., we took the first opportunity of getting away. Before I pass on
to give an account of our trip, I wish to say a few words about my
companions -- Johansen and Stubberud. It goes without saying that it
gave me, as a beginner, a great feeling of security to have with me
such a man as Johansen, who possessed many years' experience of all
that pertains to sledging expeditions; and as regards Stubberud, I
could not have wished for a better travelling companion than him either
-- a first-rate fellow, steady and efficient in word and deed. As it
turned out, we were not to encounter very many difficulties, but one
never escapes scot-free on a sledge journey in these regions. I owe
my comrades thanks for the way in which they both did their best to
smooth our path.

Johansen and Stubberud drove their dog-teams; I myself acted as
"forerunner." The drivers had seven dogs apiece. We took so many,
because we were not quite sure of what the animals we had were fit
for. As was right and proper, the southern party had picked out
the best. Among those at our disposal there were several that had
previously shown signs of being rather quickly tired. True, this
happened under very severe conditions. As it turned out, our dogs
exceeded all our expectations in the easier conditions of work that
prevailed during the summer. On the first part of the way -- as far as
the depot in 80° S. -- the loads were quite modest. Besides the tent,
the sleeping-bags, our personal outfit, and instruments, we only had
provisions for eight days-seals' flesh for the dogs, and tinned food
for ourselves. Our real supplies were to be taken from the depot,
where there was enough of everything.

On November 8 we left Framheim, where in future Lindström was to
reside as monarch of all he surveyed. The weather was as fine as
could be wished. I was out with the cinematograph apparatus, in
order if possible to immortalize the start. To complete the series
of pictures, Lindström was to take the forerunner, who was now, be it
said, a good way behind those he was supposed to be leading. With all
possible emphasis I enjoined Lindström only to give the crank five
or six turns, and then started off to catch up the drivers. When
I had nearly reached the provision store I pulled up, struck by a
sudden apprehension. Yes, I was right on looking back I discovered
that incorrigible person still hard at work with the crank, as though
he were going to be paid a pound for every yard of film showing the
back view of the forerunner. By making threatening gestures with a
ski-pole I stopped the too persistent cinematograph, and then went
on to join Stubberud, who was only a few yards ahead. Johansen had
disappeared like a meteor. The last I saw of him was the soles of his
boots, as he quite unexpectedly made an elegant backward somersault
off the sledge when it was passing over a little unevenness by the
provision store. The dogs, of course, made off at full speed, and
Johansen after them like the wind. We all met again safe and sound at
the ascent to the Barrier. Here a proper order of march was formed,
and we proceeded southward.

The Barrier greeted us with a fresh south wind, that now and then made
an attempt to freeze the tip of one's nose; it did not succeed in this,
but it delayed us a little. It does not take a great deal of wind
on this level plain to diminish the rate of one's progress. But the
sun shone too gaily that day to allow a trifle of wind to interfere
very much with our enjoyment of life. The surface was so firm that
there was hardly a sign of drift-snow. As it was perfectly clear, the
mark-flags could be followed the whole time, thus assuring us that,
at any rate, the first day's march would be accomplished without any
deviation from the right track.

At five o'clock we camped, and when we had fed the dogs and come into
the tent we could feel how much easier and pleasanter everything was
at this season than on the former journeys in autumn and spring. We
could move freely in a convenient costume; if we wished, there was
nothing to prevent our performing all the work of the camp with
bare hands and still preserving our finger-tips unharmed. As I had
no dog-team to look after, I undertook the duty of attending to our
own needs; that is to say, I acted as cook. This occupation also was
considerably easier now than it had been when the temperature was
below -60° F. At that time it took half an hour to turn the snow in
the cooker into water; now it was done in ten minutes, and the cook
ran no risk whatever of getting his fingers frozen in the process.

Ever since we landed on the Barrier in January, 1911, we had been
expecting to hear a violent cannonade as the result of the movement of
the mass of ice. We had now lived a whole winter at Framheim without
having observed, as far as I know, the slightest sign of a sound. This
was one of many indications that the ice round our winter-quarters
was not in motion at all.

No one, I believe, had noticed anything of the expected noise on the
sledge journeys either, but at the place where we camped on the night
of November 8 we did hear it. There was a report about once in two
minutes, not exactly loud, but still, there it was. It sounded just
as if there was a whole battery of small guns in action down in the
depths below us. A few hundred yards to the west of the camp there
were a number of small hummocks, which might indicate the presence
of crevasses, but otherwise the surface looked safe enough. The small
guns kept up a lively crackle all through the night, and combined with
a good deal of uproar among the dogs to shorten our sleep. But the
first night of a sledge journey is almost always a bad one. Stubberud
declared that he could not close his eyes on account of "that filthy
row." He probably expected the ice to open and swallow him up every
time he heard it. The surface, however, held securely, and we turned
out to the finest day one could wish to see. It did not require any
very great strength of mind to get out of one's sleeping-bag now. The
stockings that had been hung up in the evening could be put on again
as dry as a bone; the sun had seen to that. Our ski boots were as soft
as ever; there was not a sign of frost on them. It is quite curious to
see the behaviour of the dogs when the first head appears through the
tent-door in the morning. They greet their lord and master with the
most unmistakable signs of joy, although, of course, they must know
that his arrival will be followed by many hours of toil, with, perhaps,
a few doses of the whip thrown in; but from the moment he begins to
handle the sledge, the dogs look as if they had no desire in the world
but to get into the harness as soon as possible and start away. On days
like this their troubles would be few; with the light load and good
going we had no difficulty in covering nineteen geographical miles
in eight hours. Johansen's team was on my heels the whole time, and
Stubberud's animals followed faithfully behind. From time to time we
saw sledge-tracks quite plainly; we also kept the mark-flags in sight
all day. In the temperatures we now had to deal with our costume was
comparatively light -- certainly much lighter than most people imagine;
for there is a kind of summer even in Antarctica, although the daily
readings of the thermometer at this season would perhaps rather remind
our friends at home of what they are accustomed to regard as winter.

In undertaking a sledge journey down there in autumn or spring,
the most extraordinary precautions have to be taken to protect
oneself against the cold. Skin clothing is then the only thing
that is of any use; but at this time of year, when the sun is above
the horizon for the whole twenty-four hours, one can go for a long
time without being more heavily clad than a lumberman working in
the woods. During the march our clothing was usually the following:
two sets of woollen underclothes, of which that nearest the skin was
quite thin. Outside the shirt we wore either an ordinary waistcoat
or a comparatively light knitted woollen jersey. Outside all came our
excellent Burberry clothes -- trousers and jacket. When it was calm,
with full sunshine, the Burberry jacket was too warm; we could then
go all day in our shirt-sleeves. To be provided for emergencies,
we all had our thinnest reindeer-skin clothes with us; but, so far
as I know, these were never used, except as pillows or mattresses.

The subject of sleeping-bags has no doubt been thoroughly threshed
out on every Polar expedition. I do not know how many times we
discussed this question, nor can I remember the number of more or
less successful patents that were the fruit of these discussions. In
any case, one thing is certain, that the adherents of one-man bags
were in an overwhelming majority, and no doubt rightly. As regards
two-man bags, it cannot be denied that they enable their occupants
to keep warm longer; but it is always difficult to find room for two
big men in one sack, and if the sack is to be used for sleeping in,
and one of the big men takes to snoring into the other's ear, the
situation may become quite unendurable. In the temperatures we had
on the summer journeys there was no difficulty in keeping warm enough
with the one-man bags, and they were used by all of us.

On the first southern journey, in September, Johansen and I used a
double bag between us; in the intense cold that prevailed at that
time we managed to get through the night without freezing; but if the
weather is so cold that one cannot keep warmth in one's body in good,
roomy one-man bags, then it is altogether unfit for sledging journeys.

November 10. -- Immediately after the start this morning we tried how
we could get on without a forerunner. As long as we were in the line
of flags this answered very well; the dogs galloped from one flag to
another, while I was able to adopt the easy method of hanging on to
Stubberud's sledge. About midday we were abreast of the depression
already mentioned, where, on the third depot journey last autumn, we
ran into a regular net of crevasses. This time we were aware of the
danger, and kept to the left; but at the last moment the leading team
ran out to the wrong side, and we cut across the eastern part of the
dangerous zone. Fortunately it was taken at full gallop. It is quite
possible that I inwardly wished we were all a few pounds lighter,
as our little caravan raced across those thin snow bridges, through
which could be seen the blue colour of the ugly gulfs below. But after
the lapse of a few long minutes we could congratulate ourselves on
getting over with our full numbers.

Not for anything would I have gone that mile without ski on my feet; it
would practically have meant falling in and going out. It is, perhaps,
saying a good deal to claim that with ski on, one is absolutely secured
against the danger these crevasses present; if misfortunes are abroad,
anything may happen. But it would require a very considerable amount
of bad luck for man and ski to fall through.

November 11. -- In weather like this, going on the march is like
going to a dance: tent, sleeping-bags, and clothes keep soft and dry
as a bone. The thermometer is about -4° F. A fellow-man suddenly put
down in our midst from civilized surroundings would possibly shake
his head at so many degrees of frost, but it must be remembered that
we have long ago abandoned the ordinary ideas of civilized people as
to what is endurable in the way of temperature. We are enthusiastic
about the spring-like weather, especially when we remember what it
was like down here two months ago, when the thermometer showed -76°
F., and the rime hung an inch thick inside the tent, ready to drop
on everything and everybody at the slightest movement. Now there is
no rime to be seen; the sun clears it away. For now there is a sun;
not the feeble imitation of one that stuck its red face above the
northern horizon in August, but our good old acquaintance of lower
latitudes, with his wealth of light and warmth.

After two hours' march we came in sight, at ten o'clock in the
morning, of the two snow-huts that were built on the last trip. We
made straight for them, thinking we might possibly find some trace
of the southern party. So we did, though in a very different way
from what we expected. We were, perhaps, about a mile off when we
all three suddenly halted and stared at the huts. "There are men,"
said Stubberud. At any rate there was something black that moved,
and after confused thoughts of Japanese, Englishmen, and the like had
flashed through our minds, we at last got out the glasses. It was not
men, but a dog. Well, the presence of a live dog here, seventy-five
miles up the Barrier, was in itself a remarkable thing. It must, of
course, be one of the southern party's dogs, but how the runaway had
kept himself alive all that time was for the present a mystery. On
coming to closer quarters we soon found that it was one of Hassel's
dogs, Peary by name. He was a little shy to begin with, but when he
heard his name he quickly understood that we were friends come on a
visit, and no longer hesitated to approach us. He was fat and round,
and evidently pleased to see us again. The hermit had lived on the
lamentable remains of poor Sara, whom we had been obliged to kill here
in September. Sara's lean and frozen body did not seem particularly
adapted for making anyone fat, and yet our newly-found friend Peary
looked as if he had been feasting for weeks. Possibly he had begun
by devouring Neptune, another of his companions, who had also given
the southern party the slip on the way to the depot in 80° S. However
this may be, Peary's rest cure came to an abrupt conclusion. Stubberud
took him and put him in his team.

We had thought of reaching the depot before the close of the day,
and this we could easily have done if the good going had continued;
but during the afternoon the surface became so loose that the dogs
sank in up to their chests, and when -- at about six in the evening --
the sledge-meter showed twenty-one geographical miles, the animals
were so done up that it was no use going on.

At eleven o'clock the next morning -- Sunday, November 12 -- we
reached the depot. Captain Amundsen had promised to leave a brief
report when the southern party left here, and the first thing we did
on arrival was, of course, to search for the document in the place
agreed upon. There were not many words on the little slip of paper,
but they gave us the welcome intelligence: "All well so far."

We had expected that the southern party's dogs would have finished
the greater part, if not the whole, of the seal meat that was laid
down here in April; but fortunately this was not the case. There was
a great quantity left, so that we could give our own dogs a hearty
feed with easy consciences. They had it, too, and it was no trifling
amount that they got through. The four days' trot from Framheim had
been enough to produce an unusual appetite. There was a puppy in
Johansen's team that was exposed for the first time in his life to
the fatigues of a sledge journey. This was a plucky little chap that
went by the name of Lillegut. The sudden change from short commons
to abundance was too much for his small stomach, and the poor puppy
lay shrieking in the snow most of the afternoon.

We also looked after ourselves that day, and had a good meal of fresh
seal meat; after that we supplied ourselves from the large stores that
lay here with the necessary provisions for a sledge journey of five
weeks: three cases of dogs' pemmican, one case of men's pemmican,
containing ninety rations, 20 pounds of dried milk, 55 pounds of
oatmeal biscuits, and three tins of malted milk, besides instruments,
Alpine rope, and clothing. The necessary quantity of chocolate had
been brought with us from Framheim, as there was none of this to
spare out in the field. Our stock of paraffin was 6 1/2 gallons,
divided between two tanks, one on each sledge. Our cooking outfit
was exactly the same as that used by the southern party.

The instruments we carried were a theodolite, a hypsometer, two
aneroids, one of which was no larger than an ordinary watch, two
thermometers, one chronometer watch, one ordinary watch, and one
photographic camera (Kodak 3 x 3 inches), adapted for using either
plates or films. We had three spools of film, and one dozen plates.

Our medical outfit was exceedingly simple. It consisted of nothing
but a box of laxative pills, three small rolls of gauze bandage, and
a small pair of scissors, which also did duty for beard-cutting. Both
pills and gauze were untouched when we returned; it may therefore be
safely said that our state of health during the journey was excellent.

While the drivers were packing and lashing their loads, which now
weighed nearly 600 pounds, I wrote a report to the Chief, and took an
azimuth observation to determine the direction of our course. According
to our instructions we should really have taken a north-easterly
course from here; but as our dogs seemed to be capable of more and
better work than we had expected, and as there was believed to be a
possibility that bare land was to be found due east of the spot where
we were, it was decided to make an attempt in that direction.

Our old enemy the fog had made its appearance in the course of the
night, and now hung, grey and disgusting, under the sky, when we
broke camp at the depot on the morning of November 13. However, it
was not so bad as to prevent our following the flags that marked the
depot on the east.

My duty as forerunner was immediately found to be considerably lighter
than before. With the greatly increased weight behind them the dogs had
all they could do to follow, if I went at an ordinary walking pace. At
11 a.m. we passed the easternmost flag, at five geographical miles from
the depot, and then we found ourselves on untrodden ground. A light
southerly breeze appeared very opportunely and swept away the fog;
the sun again shed its light over the Barrier, which lay before us,
shining and level, as we had been accustomed to see it. There was,
however, one difference: with every mile we covered there was the
possibility of seeing something new. The going was excellent, although
the surface was rather looser than one could have wished. The ski flew
over it finely, of course, while dogs' feet and sledge-runners sank
in. I hope I shall never have to go here without ski; that would be
a terrible punishment; but with ski on one's feet and in such weather
it was pure enjoyment.

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