From here the valley turned slightly to the south. After having marked the spot where our first tent was to be set up, we continued our investigations. The valley sloped gradually upwards, and reached the ridge at a height of 100 feet. From this elevation we had an excellent view over the valley we had been following, and all the other surroundings. On the north the Barrier extended, level and straight, apparently without interruption, and ended on the west in the steep descent of Cape Man's Head, which formed the eastern limit of the inner part of the Bay of Whales, and afforded a snug little corner, where we had found room for our ship. There lay the whole of the inner part of the bay, bounded on all sides by ice, ice and nothing but ice-Barrier as far as we could see, white and blue. This spot would no doubt show a surprising play of colour later on; it promised well in this way.
The ridge we were standing on was not broad -- about two hundred yards, I think
-- and in many places it was swept quite bare by the wind, showing the blue ice itself. We passed over it and made for the pass of Thermopylae, which extended in a southerly direction from the ridge and after a very slight descent was merged in a great plain, surrounded by elevations on all sides -- a basin, in fact. The bare ridge we passed over to descend into the basin was a good deal broken up; but the fissures were narrow, and almost entirely filled up again with drift, so that they were not dangerous. The basin gave us the impression of being sheltered and cosy, and, above all, it looked safe and secure. This stretch of ice was -- with the exception of a few quite small hummocks of the shape of haycocks --
perfectly flat and free from crevasses.
We crossed it, and went up on the ridge that rose very gently on the south. From the top of this all was flat and even as far as we could see; but that was not saying much. For a little while we continued along the ridge in an easterly direction without finding any place that was specially suited for our purpose.
Our thoughts returned to the basin as the best sheltered place we had seen.
From the height we were now on, we could look down into the south-eastern part of the Bay of Whales. In contrast to that part of the ice-foot to which we had made fast, the inner bay seemed to consist of ice that had been forced up by pressure. But we had to leave a closer examination of this part till later. We all
liked the basin, and agreed to choose it as our future abode, And so we turned and went back again. It did not take long to reach the plain in our own tracks.
On making a thorough examination of the surface and discussing the various possibilities, we came to the conclusion that a site for the hut was to be looked for on the little elevation that rose to the east. It seemed that we should be more snug there than anywhere else, and we were not mistaken. We soon made up our minds that we had chosen the best place the Barrier had to offer. On the spot where the hut was to stand we set up another ski-pole, and then went home.
The good news that we had already found a favourable place for the hut naturally caused great satisfaction on all sides. Everyone had been silently dreading the long and troublesome transport over the Ice Barrier.
There was teeming life on the ice. Wherever we turned we saw great herds of seals -- Weddells and crab-eaters. The great sea-leopard, which we had seen occasionally on the floes, was not to be found here. During our whole stay in the Bay of Whales we did not see a single specimen of it. Nor did we ever see the Ross seal. Penguins had not shown themselves particularly often, only a few here and there; but we appreciated them all the more. The few we saw were almost all Adélie penguins. While we were at work making the ship fast, a flock of them suddenly shot up out of the water and on to the ice. They looked about them in surprise for a moment: men and ships do not come their way every day.
But it seemed as if their astonishment soon gave way to a desire to see what was happening. They positively sat and studied all our movements. Only now and then they grunted a little and took a turn over the ice. What specially interested them was evidently our work at digging holes in the snow for the grapnels. They flocked about the men who were engaged in this, laid their heads on one side, and looked as if they found it immensely interesting. They did not appear to be the least afraid of us, and for the most part we left them in peace. But some of them had to lose their lives; we wanted them for our collection.
An exciting seal-hunt took place the same day. Three crab-eaters had ventured to approach the ship, and were marked down to increase our store of fresh meat.
We picked two mighty hunters to secure the prey for us; they approached with the greatest caution, though this was altogether unnecessary, for the seals lay perfectly motionless. They crept forward in Indian fashion, with their heads down and their backs bent. This looks fine; I chuckle and laugh, but still with a certain decorum. Then there is a report. Two of the sleeping seals give a little
spasm, and do not move again. It is otherwise with the third. With snakelike movements it wriggles away through the loose snow with surprising speed. It is no longer target practice, but hunting real game, and the result is in keeping with it. Bang! bang! and bang again. It is a good thing we have plenty of ammunition.
One of the hunters uses up all his cartridges and has to go back, but the other sets off in pursuit of the game. Oh, how I laughed! Decorum was no longer possible; I simply shook with laughter. Away they went through the loose snow, the seal first and the hunter after. I could see by the movements of the pursuer that he was furious. He saw that he was in for something which he could not come out of with dignity. The seal made off at such a pace that it filled the air with snow.
Although the snow was fairly deep and loose, the seal kept on the surface. Not so the hunter: he sank over the knees at every step, and in a short time was completely outdistanced. From time to time he halted, aimed, and fired. He himself afterwards asserted that every shot had hit. I had my doubts. In any case the seal seemed to take no notice of them, for it went on with undiminished speed. At last the mighty man gave up and turned back. "Beastly hard to kill," I heard him say, as he came on board. I suppressed a smile -- did not want to hurt the fellow's feelings.
What an evening! The sun is high in the heavens in spite of the late hour. Over all this mountainous land of ice, over the mighty Barrier running south, there lies a bright, white, shining light, so intense that it dazzles the eyes. But northward lies the night. Leaden grey upon the sea, it passes into deep blue as the eye is raised, and pales by degrees until it is swallowed up in the radiant gleam from the Barrier. What lies behind the night -- that smoke-black mass -- we know.
That part we have explored, and have come off victorious. But what does the dazzling day to the south conceal? Inviting and attractive the fair one lies before us. Yes, we hear you calling, and we shall come. You shall have your kiss, if we pay for it with our lives.
The following day -- Sunday -- brought the same fine weather. Of course, there could now be no thought of Sunday for us. Not one of us would have cared to spend the day in idleness. We were now divided into two parties: the sea party and the land party. The sea party -- ten men -- took over the Fram, while on this day the land party took up their abode on the Barrier for a year or two, or whatever it might be. The sea party was composed of Nilsen, Gjertsen, Beck, Sundbeck, Ludvig Hansen, Kristensen, Rönne, Nödtvedt, Kutschin, and Olsen.
The land party consisted of Prestrud, Johansen, Helmer Hanssen, Hassel, Bjaaland, Stubberud, Lindström, and myself. Lindström was to stay on board for
a few days longer, as we still had to take most of our meals on the ship. The plan was that one party, composed of six men, should camp in a sixteen-man tent in the space between Rönniken and Nelson, while another party of two were to live in a tent up at the but site and build the hut. The two last were, of course, our capable carpenters, Bjaaland and Stubberud.
By eleven o'clock in the morning we were at last ready to start. We had one sledge, eight dogs and provisions and equipment weighing altogether 660
pounds. It was my team that was to open the ball. The sea party had all collected on deck to witness the first start. All was now ready; after countless efforts on our part, or, if it is preferred, after a thorough thrashing for every dog, we had at last got them in a line before the sledge in Alaska harness. With a flourish and a crack of the whip we set off. I glanced at the ship. Yes; as I thought -- all our comrades were standing in a row, admiring the fine start. I am not quite sure that I did not hold my head rather high and look round with a certain air of triumph.
If I did so, it was foolish of me. I ought to have waited; the defeat would have been easier to bear. For defeat it was, and a signal one. The dogs had spent half a year in lying about and eating and drinking, and had got the impression that they would never have anything else to do. Not one of them appeared to understand that a new era of toil had begun. After moving forward a few yards, they all sat down, as though at a word of command, and stared at each other. The most undisguised astonishment could be read in their faces. When at last we had succeeded, with another dose of the whip, in making them understand that we really asked them to work, instead of doing as they were told they flew at each other in a furious scrimmage. Heaven help me! what work we had with those eight dogs that day! If it was going to be like this on the way to the Pole, I calculated in the midst of the tumult that it would take exactly a year to get there, without counting the return journey. During all this confusion I stole another glance at the ship, but the sight that met me made me quickly withdraw my eyes again. They were simply shrieking with laughter, and loud shouts of the most infamous encouragement reached us. "If you go on like that, you'll get there by Christmas," or, "Well done! stick to it. Now you're off." We were stuck faster than ever. Things looked desperate. At last, with the combined strength of all the animals and men, we got the sledge to move again.
So our first sledge trip could not be called a triumph. We then set up our first tent on the Barrier, between Mounts Nelson and Rönniken -- a large, strong tent for sixteen men, with the sheet for the floor sewed on. Round the tent wire ropes were stretched in a triangle, fifty yards on each side. To these the dogs were to
be tethered. The tent was furnished with five sleeping-bags and a quantity of provisions. The distance we had come was 1.2 geographical miles, or 2.2
kilometres, measured by sledge-meter. After finishing this work, we went on up to the site selected for the station. Here we set up the tent -- a similar tent to the other, for sixteen men -- for the use of the carpenters, and marked out the hut site. According to the lie of the ground we elected to make the house face east and west, and not north and south, as one might have been tempted to do, since it was usually supposed that the most frequent and violent winds came from the south. We chose rightly. The prevailing wind was from the east, and thus caught our house on its most protected short wall. The door faced west. When this work was done, we marked out the way from here to the encampment below and thence to the vessel with dark flags at every fifteen paces. In this way we should be able to drive with certainty from one place to another without losing time if a storm should set in. The distance from the hut site to the vessel was 2.2
geographical miles, or 4 kilometres. On Monday, January 16, work began in earnest. About eighty dogs -- six teams -- drove up to the first encampment with all the provisions and equipment that could be loaded on the sledges, and twenty dogs -- Stubberud's and Bjaaland's teams -- went with a full load up to the other camp. We had some work indeed, those first days, to get the dogs to obey us.
Time after time they tried to take the command from their masters and steer their own course. More than once it cost us a wet shirt to convince them that we really were the masters. It was strenuous work, but it succeeded in the end. Poor dogs!
they got plenty of thrashing in those days. Our hours were long; we seldom turned in before eleven at night, and were up again at five. But it did not seem particularly hard; we were all alike eager for the work to be finished as soon as possible, so that the Fram might get away. The harbour arrangements were not of the best. The quay she was moored to suddenly broke in pieces, and all hands had to turn out to make her fast to a new quay. Perhaps they had just got to sleep again when the same operation had to be repeated; for the ice broke time after time, and kept the unfortunate "sea-rovers" in constant activity. It is enervating work being always at one's post, and sleeping with one eye open. They had a hard time to contend with, our ten comrades, and the calm way in which they took everything was extraordinary. They were always in a good humour, and always had a joke ready. It was the duty of the sea party to bring up all the provisions and outfit for the wintering party from the hold, and put them on the ice. Then the land party removed them. This work proceeded very smoothly, and it was rare that one party had to wait for the other. During the first few days of sledging all the members of the land party became quite hoarse, some of them so badly that they almost lost their voices. This came from the continual yelling and
shouting that we had to do at first to make the dogs go. But this gave the sea party a welcome opportunity of finding us a nickname; we were called "the chatterers."
Apart from the unpleasantness of constantly changing the anchorage, on account of the breaking up and drifting out of the ice, the harbour must in other respects be regarded as very good. A little swell might set in from time to time and cause some disagreeable bumping, but never anything to embarrass the vessel. One very great advantage was that the currents in this corner always set outward, and thus kept off all icebergs. The sledging between the ship and the Barrier was done by five men to begin with, as the carpenters were engaged in building the house. One man had also to be told off as tent guard, for we could not use more than half our teams -- six dogs -- at a time. If we harnessed the full team of twelve, we only had trouble and fights. The dogs which were thus left behind had to be looked after, and a man was required for this duty. Another of the duties of the tent guard was to cook the day's food and keep the tent tidy. It was a coveted position, and lots were cast for it. It gave a little variety in the continual sledging.
On January 17 the carpenters began to dig the foundations of the house. The effect of all we had heard about the Antarctic storms was that we decided to take every possible precaution to make the house stand on an even keel. The carpenters therefore began by digging a foundation 4 feet down into the Barrier.
This was not easy work; 2 feet below the surface they came upon hard, smooth ice, and had to use pickaxes. The same day a stiff easterly breeze sprang up, whirling the snow high into the air, and filling up the foundations as fast as the men dug them. But it would take more than that to stop those fellows in their work. They built a wind-screen of planks, and did it so well that they were able to work all day, unhindered by drifts, until, when evening came, they had the whole foundation dug out. There is no difficulty in doing good work when one has such people to work for one. The stormy weather interfered somewhat with our sledging, and as we found our Alaska harness unsuitable to the conditions, we went on board and began the preparation of Greenland harness for our dogs.
All hands worked at it. Our excellent sailmaker, Rönne, sewed forty-six sets of harness in the course of the month. The rest of us spliced the ropes and made the necessary tackles, while others spliced wire-rope shafts to our sledges. When evening came we had an entirely new set of tackle for all our sledges and dogs.
This was very successful, and in a few days the whole was working smoothly.
We had now divided ourselves between the two tents, so that five men slept in the lower tent, while the two carpenters and I inhabited the upper one. That evening a rather amusing thing happened to us. We were just turning in when suddenly we heard a penguin's cry immediately outside the tent. We were out in a moment. There, a few yards from the door, sat a big Emperor penguin, making bow after bow. It gave exactly the impression of having come up simply to pay us its respects. We were sorry to repay its attention so poorly, but such is the way of the world. With a final bow it ended its days in the frying-pan.
On January 18 we began bringing up the materials for the hut, and as soon as they arrived the builders began to put them up. It is no exaggeration to say that everything went like a well-oiled machine. One sledge after another drove up to the site and discharged its load. The dogs worked splendidly, and their drivers no less, and as fast as the materials arrived our future home rose into the air. All the parts had been marked before leaving Norway, and were now discharged from the ship in the order in which they were wanted. Besides which, Stubberud himself had built the house, so that he knew every peg of it. It is with gladness and pride that I look back upon those days. With gladness, because no discord was ever heard in the course of this fairly severe labour; with pride, because I was at the head of such a body of men. For men they were, in the true sense of the word. Everyone knew his duty, and did it.
During the night the wind dropped and the morning brought the finest weather, calm and clear. It was a pleasure to work on days like this. Both men and dogs were in the best of spirits. On these journeys between the ship and the station we were constantly hunting seals, but we only took those that came in our way. We never had to go far to find fresh meat. We used to come suddenly upon a herd of them; they were then shot, flayed, and loaded on the sledges with the provisions and building materials. The dogs feasted in those days -- they had as much warm flesh as they wanted.
