NANSEN AND JOHANSEN START ON THEIR DASH FOR THE POLE.
On March 14, 1895, they left the Fram, and returned to Norway in the Windward on August 13, 1895, having reached 86° 14' N. lat., the highest point, up to that time, attained by man.
For the first few days travelling was slow, heavy, and laborious, the ice being excessively rough and rugged. Time after time the two men had to haul the sledges, one after another, over the broken hummocks; but always at the end of each period of travel when they formed their camp, the Pole was nearer. On March 22 they reached 85° 10' N. lat. The ice they were journeying over now was not only rough but was constantly moving, the noise being incessant as the masses ground and strained against one another. But still they pushed on, taking such rest as they could and working hard, when not in camp, from the moment they started until the moment the camp was made. On April 7 they had reached 86° 14' N. lat., the highest point ever, up to that time, attained by man, and only some two hundred miles from the Pole.
The ice was indescribably rugged and broken, necessitating the lifting of the sledges at almost every yard; the temperature averaged 40° below zero; their clothes were frozen into hard suits of mail, and their sleeping-bags were also frozen stiff. They had to sleep in the frozen bags out in the open, the temperature once being as low as 49° below zero. They had reached the "farthest North," and had learned enough to satisfy them that up to the Pole there was nothing but a continuation of the broken, rugged ice, straining and breaking under the pressure of the drift, and they decided to turn back, making towards the nearest land for winter quarters.
This was Franz Josef Land, lying to the south-west of where they were, and if they reached it in time to pass the winter on shore, they would be able, they believed, to resume their journey to Spitzbergen in the following summer. Arrived there, they did not anticipate any difficulty in getting home on board a Norwegian whaler, if the Fram had not meantime arrived.
They were now travelling in continual daylight, with a task before them every hour of surmounting the steep sides of hummocks. For hours they toiled on, making as much progress as they could between the camps. The work they were performing was scarcely, one would think, likely to make them forget when it was time to sleep. And yet there was an occasion when for thirty-six hours they struggled on without a sleep. The food for the dogs was daily growing scarcer, and they were anxious to get on as far as possible before it was finished. When, therefore, they came upon a stretch of fairly smooth ice, they made the most of it, and only when they and their dogs were dead tired did they stop. It was their custom to always wind up their watches when they crept into their sleeping-bag; on this occasion when they took them from under their heavy clothing they discovered that both had stopped. In their anxiety to push forward they had forgotten to wind them up, and the springs had run down during the thirty-six hours. There was nothing to do but guess at what the time ought to be, and so they overcame this difficulty as they overcame all others, by making the best of it.
Their next trouble was the failure of the dog food. When the first dog died they kept him, for unless they fell in with a bear and killed it, the bodies of the weaker dogs was all that they could give the stronger ones to keep them alive. At first the dogs turned away from the remains of their comrade, but soon their hunger overcame their scruples, and the ravenous creatures fought over the carcase as soon as it was offered to them. Then came the necessity of killing one of them every now and again to feed the others; much as it went against their natures to do it, the explorers had to choose between it and death to themselves.
By the end of April they expected to reach land, but April passed and May passed, and still only the rugged ice was in view. One by one the dogs had to be sacrificed until only two remained. The weight of the sledges was also very considerably reduced by this time. The third sledge had been abandoned, and now each man, assisted by one dog, dragged a sledge on which rested his kayak, his ski, firearms, and other necessaries, as well as a moiety of the remaining stores. June came in and still no land was in sight, but the character of the ice was changing, though not very much for the better. It was not so rugged and hummocky, but it was frequently intersected by channels mostly full of floating pieces. It was useless taking to the kayaks to cross them, and often impossible to go round, so they adopted the method of jumping from piece to piece, and drawing their sledges after them. On June 22 they came upon a seal, which they succeeded in shooting and securing, a fact which was so memorable that they rested for a day, giving the dogs an ample supply of the meat. But the rest was scarcely idleness, for they were visited by three bears, all of which also fell under bullets. They now had abundance of food, both for themselves and the dogs, to last a few weeks if they did not come in sight of the land. Two days later, however, they saw it, lying ahead of them, and they pushed on till a wide, open channel stopped them.