Botolfsen came with us as a passenger, leaving his vessel in charge of the mate, and accompanied us as far as Tromsö. We reshaped our course about noon for Red Bay, intending to steam from there to Danes Island and see Mr. Andrée. About midnight we sighted land ahead, and supposed it to be the cape immediately to the west of Red Bay. It was 1041 days since we last saw land.
We lay to for some time at this point, waiting for the fog to clear away sufficiently to allow us to find the landmarks. As it did not clear, we steamed slowly westward, taking frequent soundings, and soon found ourselves, as we anticipated, right in “Norsksundet” (Norwegian Sound), and proceeding up, we anchored at 9.30 A.M., off “Hollændernæset” (Dutch Cape). The fog was now cleared, and we soon saw the steamship Virgo, of the Andrée Expedition, and the balloon-house ashore.
Through the telescope we could see that our arrival had been observed, and a steam-launch soon came alongside with Mr. Andrée, the other members of the expedition, and Captain Zachau, of the Virgo.
Neither could these gentlemen give us any news of the fate of our comrades. Our spirits became still more depressed than before. We had confidently expected that Nansen and Johansen would reach home before us. Now it seemed as if we were to be the first to arrive.
We did not, however, entertain any serious fears for their safety, especially when we learned that the Jackson expedition had spent two winters in Franz Josef Land. It was highly probable that Dr. Nansen and Johansen would sooner or later meet with this expedition, and were, perhaps, only waiting for a chance of getting home. But if they had not met with Jackson, something had evidently gone amiss with them, in which case they needed assistance, and that as soon as possible.
Our plans were soon laid. We would hurry home to Tromsö to get reliable information, and, in case nothing had been learned there either, we would complete our coal supply—we were not in want of anything else—and immediately proceed to Franz Josef Land, to make a search for them, and, as we hoped, have the unspeakable pleasure of bringing them home to our expectant fatherland in our own faithful Fram.
Our stay at Danes Island was consequently cut as short as possible. We paid visits to the Virgo, saw the balloon, which was now ready to start as soon as a favorable wind would permit of it, and received return visits from our amiable Swedish friends. During the night we finished taking in water and shifting the coal; the vessel was ready for sea, and at 3 A.M. on August 15th the Fram steamed off, with sails set, through Sneerenburg Bay and out to sea.
During the passage across we had good weather and a fair and often fresh breeze, the vessel making good speed: upward of 9¼ knots.
At 9 A.M. on the 19th we saw the first blue ridges of our native mountains. By noon we sighted Lögö, and at 8 P.M. the north point of Loppen. Then we steered into Kvænangen Fjord, and anchored off Skjærvö at 2 o’clock in the morning of August 20th.
As soon as the anchor had fallen, I called the doctor and Scott-Hansen, who both wanted to go ashore with me. But as they were too slow with their toilet, I asked Bentzen to put me ashore in the pram, and was soon at the telegraph station, where I tried to knock life into the people by thundering with my clinched fist first at one door, then at another, but for a long time in vain. At last a man put his head out of a window on the second floor to inquire what kind of night-prowlers were making such a disturbance. It was the chief of the telegraph station himself. He describes the nocturnal incident in a letter to one of the Christiania newspapers in the following pleasant manner: