Chapter XI: The Second Voyage of the Fram

Norwegian Enterprise--Mapping the Islands--Nearly Frozen--A Novel
Warming-Pan--Eskimo Melody--Arctic Bull Fights--Death of the
Doctor--Fire on the _Fram_--New Lands--Prehistoric People.

The expedition which formed the second visit of the _Fram_ to the Arctic regions was equipped by private Norwegian enterprise, and sailed from Larvick on June 24, 1898, the day known in Norway as St. Hans Day. The party consisted of sixteen, all told, under the command of Captain Sverdrup, who, with two other members of the party, were in the _Fram_ with Nansen on her previous voyage. The plan of operations was to proceed to the most southerly point of Greenland, sail to the north along the western coast to Smith Sound, where the ship was to push as far to the north as possible and form a headquarters, whence sledge expeditions were to be sent out in all directions to explore and survey the immediate locality, and, at the same time, to observe and record all natural phenomena of a scientific nature. As to the exact localities to which chief attention was to be paid, the commander of the expedition was to use his own judgment; but on one point the instructions were definite and emphatic--there was to be no attempt at a dash for the Pole.

On August 21 the _Fram_ reached a suitable place for winter quarters. On the way along the Greenland coast the explorers had to take on board dogs for the sledge teams, and also to obtain a store of walrus meat wherewith to feed them, so that it was not until the date mentioned they were able to reach Rice Strait, which afforded them all the facilities they needed for winter quarters. As Peary was already to the north, engaged in mapping out the land in that direction, the Norwegians decided to give their attention to the land lying on the western side of the Strait, in the vicinity of Hayes Sound, where Nares, in 1875, had done considerable work. They completed the survey of the coast line running round Robeson Channel, and, during their stay, not only mapped out an area of one hundred thousand square miles, but also located hitherto undiscovered land, which was named after King Oscar of Norway and taken possession of in his name. Valuable additions were also made to the zoological, geological, meteorological, and botanical records, while the story of the expedition abounds in interesting experiences.

The sun set on October 16 for the remainder of the winter. A party was out taking observations over some mountains behind the bay in which the _Fram_ was anchored, and had returned to camp for the evening meal as the sun was going down. One of the party drew the attention of the others to it, and they gathered at the door of the tent and watched it in silence. "We were looking at the sun for the last time that year," Captain Sverdrup wrote in his account of the expedition. "Its pale light lay dying over the 'inland ice'; its disc, light red, was veiled on the horizon; it was like a day in the land of the dead. All light was so hopelessly cold; all life so far away. We stood and watched it till it sank; then everything became so still that it made one shudder--as if the Almighty had deserted us and shut the gates of Heaven. The light died away across the mountains and slowly vanished, while over us crept the great shades of the Polar night, the night that kills all life."

With a stretch of four months' darkness before them, it was impossible to avoid recalling the records of others who had gone through the lonely period of darkness and cold. It was a disquieting subject. Franklin, with 138 men under his command, had seen the sun go down into the Polar night, and not a man of all the party had lived to tell the tale. Greely, with twenty-five men, had seen the silent darkness come on near where they were situated at the moment--six had lived to see the dawn. Nordenskjold, wintering in White Bay, had seventeen men die of scurvy, with an abundance of food around them, for when the last victim was found, lying where he fell, he had a piece of salt pork still clutched in his fingers, while in the camp there were scores of tins of preserved fresh meat unopened. True it was that science, since then, had made vast strides, and prejudice and ignorance had been largely overcome; but when men find themselves absolutely cut off from all communication with the outside world, and with all sorts of possible dangers and disasters hidden in the future, it is only the fool-hardy who fails to realise them. The brave man does not shut his eyes to dangers; he looks them squarely in the face and determines to overcome them. Such a man usually wins. It is the man who shuts his eyes to what is in front of him who is defeated.

The winter passed without any fatality among them, although there was an occasion when one of the members nearly came to his end. Various trips were taken when the moon was up to try and locate the site where Greely made his historic camp on Pim Island. In February two men set out to look for it, and, as they did not intend to be long away, they took neither food nor sleeping-bags with them. The weather was clear and cold, with the thermometer at -40 deg. Fahr., but the men experienced no ill effects from it on their journey. They found some pieces of rope and sail-cloth scattered about at a spot on the north side of the island, and came to the conclusion that this must have been the site of the camp. Having examined the place, they were about to return to the _Fram_, when one of them sank to the ground. His companion strove to lift him up, but without avail; he had suddenly become exhausted, and his strength gave out so entirely that he could not remain on his feet. It was a serious situation. A few hours of inactivity in such a temperature, without an excess of fur clothing and warm food, meant freezing to death. His companion was in doubt whether to wait and strive to rouse him, or to run to the ship for help. He adopted the latter course, and sped away as fast as his legs could carry him. Arrived at the _Fram_, he raised the alarm, and every one turned out and hastened to the rescue. A sledge was quickly harnessed to a dog team, and on it were placed furs and food. The place where the man had collapsed was about a mile away, and the rescuers were soon at his side. He lay in a heap on the frozen snow, too far gone to recognise any one. He was pushed into a sleeping-bag, placed on the sledge, and driven off at top speed to the ship, where he was promptly put into his bunk and restoratives administered to him. Soon the efforts were successful, and he sank into a sleep from which he awakened, many hours after, little the worse for his adventure. He escaped without even a touch of frost-bite.

A few days after this episode the temperature fell rapidly, until the thermometer registered as low as -58 deg. Fahr. Peary, the American explorer, was at the time some fifteen miles to the north of the _Fram_, and the temperature in his locality went down to -67 deg. Fahr., a cold so intense that, hardened as he was to the rigours of Arctic weather, he had seven toes so severely frost-bitten that they had to be amputated. A small party from the _Fram_ was out on the ice at the time, and the cold was so trying to them that they squeezed into their sleeping-bags clad, as they were, in heavy fur garments. Still they were unable to get warm, so they lit their oil stove to raise the temperature in the tent. While this was being done, one man complained bitterly of the cold in his back, and a comrade, seeking a cause for it, found that the moisture from his body had turned to white frost on the inside of his thick woollen jersey. To thaw it, they put the lighted stove between the jersey and the man's back, whereupon he exclaimed, "Ah, that's not quite so cold."

Yet the way in which mankind can adapt themselves to all varieties of climate, by use and custom, was shown by a visit they had from one of Peary's Eskimo. He reached the _Fram_ on a day when the temperature was at -40 deg. Fahr. Invited on board, he said he must first change his travelling clothes, and, in the open air, he stripped to the waist to remove his heavy furs and put on a lighter suit. He was apparently as unaffected by the intense cold on his naked flesh as one of the Norwegians would have been had the thermometer stood at forty degrees above instead of forty degrees below zero.

The visit of the Eskimo proved an enjoyable break to the explorers, though their generosity in giving him presents, at the time of his departure, resulted in so many more coming to visit them that they had rather too much of a good thing. But when he first arrived the visitor was peculiarly welcome. They entertained him to various amusements, commencing with dinner and concluding with a concert. To the latter the Eskimo contributed his share. He was greatly taken with a toy drum belonging to one of the party, and played his own idea of a melody upon it. As his hosts did not manifest any displeasure at his performances--whatever they may have felt--he became bolder and offered to sing them a song.

To the accompaniment of the drum, he commenced with a weird, wild wail, which gradually developed in volume of sound and variety of intonation until the listeners began to feel shivers running up and down their spines. At that point the singer, who had so far sat rigid, began to sway his body from side to side, while he tossed his head backwards and forwards. He had long dank black hair, and, as he moved quicker and quicker, in time with the drum and the staccato wails, his hair was tossed over his face until the features were obscured. This appeared to be the critical moment in the performance, for he raised himself from his seat, and, with his hair tossing, his voice wailing, his body swaying, and his hands thumping vigorously at the drum, he completed the discomfiture of his hosts, who, disposed to smile at the beginning of the performance, were distinctly uncomfortable at the finish. The performer, however, was by no means dissatisfied with himself. He was a great singer, he told them, perhaps the greatest in the tribe. They had only to ask some of the others of his tribe to sing to realise the truth of what he said, he added. But the Norwegians were satisfied with the one experience.

During the sledge journeys numerous indications were found of musk oxen being in the neighbourhood of the sheltered valleys in the interior of the islands. As a supply of fresh beef was always desirable, considerable attention was paid to these animals, and, from time to time, the larder was kept well supplied with their meat. On these hunting expeditions some interesting observations were made on the habits of the oxen. One of the most interesting was as to the manner in which they met attack. When they were disturbed in feeding, the herd would retreat slowly and in order; but if they saw they were being pursued, they moved towards any vantage ground, such as a rise or hill summit, there to form themselves into a square. Each animal took up its position as though by word of command, until they stood, shoulder to shoulder, with their heads outward and so close together that their horns often linked, while within the square were sheltered any young calves there might be with the herd.

As the enemy approached one of the oxen, usually the oldest bull in the herd, dashed out from his place in the square and bounded towards the foe, with head down, horns brandished with sidelong tosses of the head, snorting and bellowing defiance. As he left the square the ranks closed up and remained so until he returned, when the ranks opened enough for him to back into his place, while another charged out to carry on the combat in front of the square. These movements were executed with lightning rapidity, every animal dashing out in turn to seek single combat, the one to advance being always the one to the right of the returned champion. Usually the advance was for a distance of a dozen yards, but there were occasions when the explorers saw the challenging ox advance over a hundred yards from the main body.

When there were sufficient bulls in the herd to form the outer lines, the cows were placed, with the calves, inside the square; but if the bulls were not numerous enough to complete the outer ranks, then the cows took their places beside the bulls. In one instance, where the herd consisted of cows and calves only, the cows formed the square and carried on the fight while the calves were sheltered within.

The courage displayed by the oxen was not restricted to their defence. They appeared to be actuated by an _esprit de corps_ which could only be likened to the heroism which animates men of fanatical fighting tribes. They were apparently incapable of fear, even to that extent which makes the saving of one's self a first consideration. When the square was once formed it never broke. Every beast in it might be killed, one by one, but there was never a sign of a break-away or a stampede. If only a few were killed, the square stood its ground until the attackers retreated, when, with an open field, the square slowly retired, still in formation, and still ready, at the first signal, to halt and renew the fight. In one instance, where every beast had been shot save one, that one made his sortie, pranced round in defiance, and retired to the heap of slain, all that remained of his gallant comrades.

Their method of defence was capable of repelling the attack of any animal now inhabiting the Arctic regions, and more complete in its system than appeared to be needed to repel any of the animals likely to attack them. It was unnecessary for the repelling of bears; foxes would never attack animals so large; the only animals likely to challenge a contest were the wolves operating in a pack. But the Arctic wolves, as a rule, hunt singly, or in pairs. There may have been a time, however, when they formed themselves into packs, and from such a time the defensive tactics of the oxen may date. Certainly the formation would prove invulnerable against such an attack, as was evidenced by the way in which a herd of oxen could hold at bay the dogs from the sledge teams. As soon as oxen were sighted it was the practice to let the dogs loose. They at once made for the oxen, and, as soon as the latter caught sight of them, they formed into a square and remained so until the explorers came up and selected such of the herd as they required for the larder. In no instance did the dogs succeed in harming an ox, though more than once a dog, venturing too near a prancing champion, was spun up into the air to fall to the ground a sad and subdued creature, if it were so fortunate as to escape with its life.

The return of summer, during the first year of their stay, was marred by the death of the doctor. Early in June the shores of Hayes Sound were being surveyed. The ice still covered the sea and the land was deep in snow. One night, when the surveying party had returned to their tent and were sitting round the oil stove eating their supper, they heard a man outside asking if he might come in. They opened the tent flap and discovered the doctor standing outside. He was evidently ill, and, as they soon realised, snow-blind. He had missed his way while out after specimens and had accidentally stumbled on the camp. He was taken in and given warm food, which revived him somewhat, afterwards being put in a sleeping-bag and made as comfortable as they could make him. In the morning he pronounced himself much better, and said he would stay at the camp, resting, for the day. The party left him with no misgivings, but on their return in the evening they found him dead in the sleeping-bag.

Camp was struck the following morning and, with the body of the doctor on the sledge, the party started back to the ship. It was a sad journey. Not only was it the first time in the history of the _Fram_ that a member of the ship's company had died, but the loss of the doctor was a serious matter to the explorers, who were thus left without any qualified expert to attend to them in the event of either sickness or accident occurring. The procession reached the ship on June 15, and the next morning the whole company formed up in funeral array to convey the remains of the doctor to their last resting-place. They gave him a sailor's burial. The national flag covered the body and bier, and the explorers, walking slowly, two and two, proceeded down Rice Strait over the ice to a spot where a hole had been cut through the ice to the open water. The body was lowered to the water's edge, where it was held while prayers were read and a hymn sung. "Then followed the moment when he slowly slipped into the deep. We shall never forget it. We sang a hymn and said the Lord's Prayer," Captain Sverdrup wrote.

As the survey work advanced to the west of the Sound, the discovery of several inaccuracies in former maps led to the hope that new land might be located in that direction. Ellesmere Land having been explored and Sir Robert Inglis Peak shown to be non-existent, advantage was taken of the opening of the ice in the summer seasons to push the _Fram_ farther to the west, so as to enable the sledge parties to reach still greater distances over the ice in that direction. It was by this means the crowning triumph of the expedition was achieved, though at the time of its achievement an event happened which very nearly brought about a tragic ending. This was no less than a fire on the _Fram_.

There were, at the time, only nine men on board. For the winter, an awning had been spread over the deck, below the shelter of which numerous articles were stored, including the ammunition and powder-boxes, a number of kayaks, spare wood for repairing sledges and making _ski_, the oil barrels, and an iron tank full of spirits. The chimney from the galley rose above this awning, and one day a spark fell upon it. At once the canvas burst into flame.

On the first alarm, the mate, who was in charge, gave his attention to the removal of the oil and explosives; but while these were being dragged out of danger the flames spread rapidly from the awning to the rigging, reaching the mainsail, which also became ignited. Then the fire reached the kayaks, the coverings of which were all saturated with grease. The blaze that followed set all the spare wood alight. The iron tank, full of spirits, was thus surrounded by flames. It was impossible to beat them back, and the men realised that if the tank burst and the spirits caught fire, the ship was doomed. With despairing energy they attacked the fire with buckets of water, and, despite the primitive nature of the weapon, they succeeded in subduing the flames before irreparable damage was done. The tank, fortunately, withstood the heat, though it was badly warped. The kayaks were destroyed, as well as all the spare wood, the rigging and sails on the mainmast, the awning, and some stores on the lower deck, where the flames also penetrated. But the ship was saved.

On October 13, 1900, the news was brought to the ship that the hopes of discovering new land were likely to be realised. A party who had been far out to the west had seen in the distance what appeared to be land at a place where none was shown on the maps. Five days later, with a picked band, Captain Sverdrup was hastening to the place indicated. As the winter was near at hand, they could not do more than verify the news. In the distance they saw what appeared to be new land, while near at hand they found traces of large herds of oxen and reindeer. The larder was in need of being replenished, and as it was impossible to proceed with the survey of the newly discovered territory before the spring, the members of the party secured as much beef and venison as they could for winter supply. By the time they returned to the ship they had enough fresh meat, not only for themselves but also for the dogs, to last until the following spring.

On April 8, 1901, Sverdrup and his picked companions set out again to explore the new territory. After pushing on as far as the outer limit of the coast, they came upon what appeared to be a large bay. The land they had descried lay on the far side of it, and for the moment they feared that, after all, it was only a portion of the old, though making the area of that much larger than had hitherto been believed. To prove or disprove their fears they commenced to cross the ice in the bay. As they proceeded, the land, at the head of the bay, was seen to suddenly open out and reveal a sound running between two islands. It was new land which lay before them, and with great jubilation they named the channel Eureka Sound and the island after the King of Norway. The position was 78 deg. 50' N. lat. and 84 deg. W. long.

Close examination of this island led to the discovery of remains of extensive Eskimo settlements, showing that at one time there had been a considerable population where now not a single Eskimo was to be found. The presence of whale bones among the ruins of the huts told of a still further change that had occurred, for whales are now quite extinct in that part, and have been so for a long period.