The South Pole (Complete Edition). Roald Amundsen

of operations, but in landing them in far better condition than when we received them. Their number was also considerably increased on the way, which seems to be another proof of a flourishing state of things. To protect them against damp and heat we laid a loose deck of planed boards about 3 inches above the fixed deck, an arrangement by which all the rain and spray ran underneath the dogs. In this way we kept them out of the water, which must always be running from side to side on the deck of a deep-laden vessel on her way to the Antarctic Ocean. Going through the tropics this loose deck did double service. It always afforded a somewhat cool surface, as there was a fresh current of air between the two decks. The main deck, which was black with tar, would have been unbearably hot for the animals; the false deck was high, and kept fairly white during the whole voyage. We carried awnings in addition, chiefly on account of the dogs. These awnings could be stretched over the whole vessel and give the dogs constant protection from the burning sun.

      I still cannot help smiling when I think of the compassionate voices that were raised here and there — and even made their way into print — about the “cruelty to animals” on board the Fram. Presumably these cries came from tender-hearted individuals who themselves kept watch-dogs tied up.

      Besides our four-footed companions, we took with us a two-footed one, not so much on account of the serious work in the Polar regions as for pleasant entertainment on the way. This was our canary “Fridtjof.” It was one of the many presents made to the expedition, and not the least welcome of them. It began to sing as soon as it came on board, and has now kept it going on two circumnavigations through the most inhospitable waters of the earth. It probably holds the record as a Polar traveller among its kind.

      Later on we had a considerable collection of various families: pigs, fowls, sheep, cats, and — rats. Yes, unfortunately, we knew what it was to have rats on board, the most repulsive of all creatures, and the worst vermin I know of. But we have declared war against them, and off they shall go before the Fram starts on her next voyage. We got them in Buenos Aires, and the best thing will be to bury them in their native land.

      On account of the rather straitened circumstances the expedition had to contend with, I had to look twice at every shilling before I spent it. Articles of clothing are an important factor in a Polar expedition, and I consider it necessary that the expedition should provide each of its members with the actual “Polar clothing.” If one left this part of the equipment to each individual, I am afraid things would look badly before the journey was done. I must admit that there was some temptation to do this. It would have been very much cheaper if I had simply given each man a list of what clothes he was required to provide for himself. But by so doing I should have missed the opportunity of personally supervising the quality of the clothing to the extent I desired.

      It was not an outfit that cut a dash by its appearance, but it was warm and strong. From the commissariat stores at Horten I obtained many excellent articles. I owe Captain Pedersen, the present chief of the Commissariat Department, my heartiest thanks for the courtesy he always showed me when I came to get things out of him. Through him I had about 200 blankets served out to me. Now, the reader must not imagine a bed and bedding, such as he may see exhibited in the windows of furniture shops, with thick, white blankets, so delicate that in spite of their thickness they look as if they might float away of their own accord, so light and fine do they appear. It was not blankets like these that Captain Pedersen gave us; we should not have known what to do with them if he had. The blankets the commissariat gave us were of an entirely different sort. As to their colour — well, I can only call it indeterminable — and they did not give one the impression that they would float away either, if one let go of them. No, they would keep on the ground right enough; they were felted and pressed together into a thick, hard mass. From the dawn of time they had served our brave warriors at sea, and it is by no means impossible that some of them had gruesome stories to tell of the days of Tordenskjold. The first thing I did, on obtaining possession of these treasures, was to get them into the dyeing-vat. They were unrecognizable when I got them back — in ultramarine blue, or whatever it was called. The metamorphosis was complete: their warlike past was wiped out.

      My intention was to have these two hundred blankets made into Polar clothing, and I took counsel with myself how I might get this done. To disclose the origin of the stuff would be an unfortunate policy. No tailor in the world would make clothes out of old blankets, I was pretty sure of that. I had to hit upon some stratagem. I heard of a man who was a capable worker at his trade, and asked him to come and see me. My office looked exactly like a woollen warehouse, with blankets everywhere. The tailor arrived. “Was that the stuff?” “Yes, that was it. Just imported from abroad. A great bargain. A lot of samples dirt cheap.” I had put on my most innocent and unconcerned expression. I saw the tailor glance at me sideways; I suppose he thought the samples were rather large. “A closely woven stuff,” said he, holding it up to the light. “I could almost swear it was ‘felted.’ “ We went carefully through every single sample, and took the number. It was a long and tedious business, and I was glad when I saw that at last we were nearing the end. Over in a corner there lay a few more; we had reached the one hundred and ninety-third, so there could not be many in the pile. I was occupied with something else, and the tailor went through the remainder by himself. I was just congratulating myself on the apparently fortunate result of the morning’s work when I was startled by an exclamation from the man in the corner. It sounded like the bellow of a mad bull. Alas! there stood the tailor enveloped in ultramarine, and swinging over his head a blanket, the couleur changeante of which left no doubt as to the origin of the “directly imported” goods. With a look of thunder the man quitted me, and I sank in black despair. I never saw him again. The fact was that in my hurry I had forgotten the sample blanket that Captain Pedersen had sent me. That was the cause of the catastrophe.

      Well, I finally succeeded in getting the work executed, and it is certain that no expedition has ever had warmer and stronger clothing than this. It was in great favour on board.

      I also thought it best to provide good oilskins, and especially good sea-boots for every man. The sea-boots were therefore made to measure, and of the very best material. I had them made by the firm I have always regarded as the best in that branch. How, then, shall I describe our grief when, on the day we were to wear our beautiful sea-boots, we discovered that most of them were useless? Some of the men could dance a hornpipe in theirs without taking the boots off the deck. Others, by exerting all their strength, could not squeeze their foot through the narrow way and reach paradise. The leg was so narrow that even the most delicate little foot could not get through it, and to make up for this the foot of the boot was so huge that it could comfortably accommodate twice as much as its owner could show. Very few were able to wear their boots. We tried changing, but that was no use; the boots were not made for any creatures of this planet. But sailors are sailors wherever they may be; it is not easy to beat them. Most of them knew the proverb that one pair of boots that fit is better than ten pairs that you can’t put on, and had brought their own with them. And so we got out of that difficulty.

      We took three sets of linen underclothing for every man, to wear in the warm regions. This part of the equipment was left to each individual; most men possess a few old shirts, and not much more is wanted through the tropics. For the cold regions there were two sets of extra thick woollen underclothing, two thick hand-knitted woollen jerseys, six pairs of knitted stockings, Iceland and other lighter jackets, socks and stockings from the penitentiary.

      Besides these we had a quantity of clothing from the army depots. I owe many thanks to General Keilhau for the kind way in which he fell in with all my wishes. From this quarter we obtained outer clothing for both cold and warm climates, underclothes, boots, shoes, wind-clothing, and cloths of different kinds.

      As the last item of our personal equipment I may mention that each man had a suit of sealskin from Greenland. Then there were such things as darning-wool, sewing-yarn, needles of all possible sizes, buttons, scissors, tapes — broad and narrow, black and white, blue and red. I may safely assert that nothing was forgotten; we were well and amply equipped in every way.

      Another side of our preparations which claimed some attention was the fitting up of the quarters we were to inhabit, the saloons and cabins. What an immense difference it makes if one lives in comfortable surroundings. For my part, I can do twice the amount of work when I see