I have also mentioned the sledges which I had made for this expedition. They were of the same pattern as those built for the Greenland one; somewhat resembling in shape the Norwegian “skikjelke,”[4] which is a low hand-sledge on broad runners, similar to our ordinary “ski.” But instead of the broad, flat runners we used in Greenland, I had the runners made in this case about the same in width (3⅙ inches), but somewhat convex underneath, like those to be found on the “skikjelke” of Österdalen and elsewhere. These convex runners proved to move very easily on the kind of country which we had to travel over, and they enabled the long sledges to be turned with ease, which was particularly convenient in the drift-ice, where the many irregularities often necessitated a very zigzag route. The runners were covered with a thin plate of German silver, which, as it always keeps bright and smooth and does not rust, answered its purpose well. As I mentioned before, there were thin, loose, well-tarred guard-runners of a kind of maple (Acer platonides) underneath the German-silver ones. The sledges were also prepared in various other ways, which have been treated of before, for the heavy loads they were to carry at the beginning. The result of this was that they were somewhat heavier than I had intended at first; but in return I had the satisfaction of their being fit for use during the whole journey, and not once were we stopped or delayed by their breaking down. This has hardly been the case with former sledge journeys.
I have referred several times to our clothes, and our trial-trips in them. Although we had come to the conclusion that our wolfskin garments were too warm for travelling in, we took them with us all the same on our first trip, and wore them too, to a certain extent; but we soon discovered that they were always too warm, and caused undue perspiration. By absorbing all the moisture of the body they became so heavy that they made an appreciable difference in the weight of our loads, and on our return from our three days’ absence from the vessel were so wet that they had to be hung for a long time over the saloon stove to dry. To this was added the experience that when we took them off in the cold, after having worn them for a time, they froze so stiff that it was difficult to get them on again. The result of all this was that I was not very favorably disposed towards them, and eventually made up my mind to keep to my woollen clothes, which I thought would give free outlet to the perspiration. Johansen followed my example. Our clothes then came to consist of about the following: On the upper part of the body two woollen shirts (Jaeger’s); outside these I had a camel’s-hair coat, and last of all a thick, rough jersey. Instead of the jersey, Johansen wore what is called on board ship an “anorak,” of thick homespun, provided with a hood, which he could pull forward in front of his face, and made after an Eskimo pattern. On our legs we had, next our skin, woollen drawers, and over these knickerbockers and loose gaiters of close Norwegian homespun. To protect us from wind and fine-driven snow, which, being of the nature of dust, forces itself into every pore of a woollen fabric, we wore a suit which has been mentioned before, made of a thin, close kind of cotton canvas, and consisting of an upper garment to pull over the head, provided with a hood in Eskimo fashion, and a lower one in the shape of a pair of wide overalls.
An important item in an outfit is the foot-gear. Instead of wearing long stockings, I preferred to use loose stocking-legs and socks, as these are easy to dry on one’s chest when asleep at night. On a journey of this kind, where one is continually travelling over snow and in a low temperature, whether it be on “ski” or not, my experience is that Finn shoes are, without doubt, the most satisfactory covering for the feet in every way, but they must be made of the skin of the hind-legs of the reindeer buck. They are warm and strong, they are always flexible, and are easy to put on and take off. They require careful management, however, if they are not to be spoiled at the outset, and one must try as well as one can to dry them when asleep at night. If it be sunny and good drying weather outside, the best plan is to hang them on a couple of “ski” staffs, or something of the kind, in the wind outside the tent, preferably turned inside out, so that the skin itself can dry quickly. If one does not take this precaution the hair will soon begin to fall out. In severe cold, such as we had on the first part of our journey, it was impossible to dry them in this way, and our only resource was then to dry them on the feet at night, after having carefully brushed and scraped them free from snow and moisture. Then the next process is to turn them inside out, fill them with “sennegraes,” or sedge, if one have it, thrust one’s feet in, and creep into the sleeping-bag with them on.[5] For milder weather later on we had provided ourselves with leather boots of the “komager” type, such as the Lapps use in summer. In this case they were made of under-tanned ox-hide, with soles of the skin of the blue seal (Phoca barbara); well rubbed in with a composition of tar and tallow, they make a wonderfully strong and water-tight boot, especially for use in wet weather. Inside the “finsko” we used, at the beginning of our journey, this “sennegraes” (Carex æsicaria), of which we had taken a supply. This is most effective in keeping the feet dry and warm, and if used Lapp-wise, i.e., with bare feet, it draws all moisture to itself. At night the wet “sennegraes” must be removed from the boots, well pulled out with the fingers, so that it does not cling together, and then dried during the night by being worn inside the coat or trousers-leg. In the morning it will be about dry, and can be pressed into the boots again. Little by little, however, it becomes used up, and if it is to last out a long journey a good supply must be taken.
We also had with us socks made of sheep’s wool and human hair, which were both warm and durable. Then, too, we took squares of “vadmel,” or Norwegian homespun, such as are used in our army, which we wore inside our “komager” (particularly myself) on the latter part of the journey, when the snow was wet. They are comfortable to wear and easy to dry, as one can spread them out under one’s coat or trousers at night.
On our hands we wore large gloves of wolfskin, in addition to ordinary woollen mittens underneath, neither of them having separate divisions for the fingers. Exactly the same drying process had to be gone through with the gloves as with the foot-gear. Altogether the warmth of one’s unfortunate body, which is the only source of heat one has for this sort of work, is chiefly expended in the effort to dry one’s various garments; and we spent our nights in wet compresses, in order that the morrow might pass in a little more comfort.
On our heads we wore felt hats, which shaded the eyes from the dazzling light, and were less pervious to the wind than an ordinary woollen cap. Outside the hat we generally had one or two hoods of cloth. By this means we could regulate the warmth of our heads to a certain extent, and this is no unimportant thing.
It had been my original intention to use light one-man sleeping-bags, made of the skin of the reindeer calf. As these, however, proved to be insufficiently warm, I had to resort to the same principle we went on in Greenland, i.e., a double bag of adult reindeer-skin; a considerable increase of warmth is thus attained by the fact that the occupants warm each other. Furthermore, a bag for two men is not a little lighter than two single bags. An objection has been raised to joint bags on the score that one’s night’s rest is apt to be disturbed, but this I have not found to be the case.
Something which, in my opinion, ought not to be omitted from a sledge journey is a tent. Even if thin and frail, it affords the members of an expedition so much protection and comfort that the inconsiderable increase in weight to the equipment is more than compensated for. The tents that I had had made for the expedition were of strong undressed silk and very light. They were square at the base and pointed at the top, and were pitched by means only of a tent-pole in the middle, on the same principle as the four-man tents used in our army. Most of them had canvas floors attached. On our first start we took with us a tent of this kind, intended to hold four men and weighing a little over 7 pounds. The floor is a certain advantage, as it makes the whole tent compact and is quick to put up, besides being more impervious to wind. The whole tent is sewed in one piece, walls and floor together, and the only opening a little split through which to crawl. One drawback, however, to it is, that it is almost impossible not to carry in with one a certain amount of snow on the feet. This melts during the night from the heat of one’s body lying on it, and the floor absorbs the moisture, thereby causing the tent to be always a good deal heavier than the figures given here.
I accordingly relinquished all idea of a tent of this kind, and took with me one of about the same dimensions, but without a floor, and of the same silk material as the other. It took a little longer to put up, but the difference was not great. The walls were kept down by pegs, and when all was finished we would bank it carefully round with snow to exclude wind and draughts. Then came the actual pitching of the tent, which was accomplished by crawling in through the entrance and poking it up with a “ski” staff, which also served as tent-pole. It weighed a fraction over 3 pounds, including 16 pegs, lasted the whole journey through—that is to say, until the autumn—and was always a cherished place of refuge.
The cooking apparatus we took with us had the advantage of utilizing to the utmost the fuel consumed. With it we were able, in a very short space of time, to cook food and simultaneously melt an abundance of drinking-water, so that both in the morning and in the evening we were able to drink as much as we wished, and even a surplus remained. The apparatus consisted of two boilers and a vessel for melting snow or ice in, and was constructed in the following manner: Inside a ring-shaped vessel was placed the boiler, while underneath this again was the lamp. The entire combustion output was thus forced to mount into the space between the boiler and the ring-shaped vessel. Over this was a tight-fitting lid with a hole in the middle, through which the hot air was obliged to pass before it could penetrate farther and reach the bottom of a flat snow-melter, which was placed above it. Then, after having delivered some part of its heat, the air was forced down again on the outside of the ring-shaped vessel by the help of a mantle, or cap, which surrounded the whole. Here it parted with its last remaining warmth to the outer side of the ring-vessel, and finally escaped, almost entirely cooled, from the lower edge of the mantle.