The wainscotting is of a primitive style of decoration, painted white, picked out with bright colours, in which red and green predominate. There is a very comfortable sofa in the background, placed opposite a table, at which the crew take their meals. The walls are adorned with several pictures, one of which is an illustration of a Norwegian legend: three princes, who have metamorphosed themselves into white bears in order to win the hearts of three coy princesses whose hair seems to be flying heavenwards. The bears, good princes as they are, are licking their feet. Another picture is the portrait in crayons of Mrs. Nansen and her child. The saloon is heated by a stove, which keeps it at an even temperature of 15 to 16 degrees. Air and light are admitted by a glazed skylight running across the stern deck.
On the left there is an automatic harmonium with a keyboard, to amuse the crew on dull days. One of our hosts, the engineer, improvised several tunes for us; it is wonderfully original, and if it were not for the respect due to Nansen, we would have invited the fair Charlotte, the stewardess with whom the reader is already acquainted, to have a dance, as the ladies were with us.
For more than three years woman had not entered Nansen’s ark, and the crew were demonstratively gallant. The cabins of the crew are situated around the saloon whence they receive their supply of air, having no other communication with the outside; they are lighted by lamps fixed on the walls. The cabins of the captain, lieutenant and doctor, with their maps, instruments, arms, and different other objects, are very interesting: photographs and hundreds of weird objects constitute a droll ensemble.
In every cabin there is a portrait of the loved one.
The captain showed us the chart of the Fram’s voyage as made out by the observations; and after that a collection of very curious photographs representing the life and the stirring wanderings of the crew since their departure in 1893. The vessel in the midst of the ice, their winter quarters, the encampment, the glaciers, the icebergs, the observations, the mirage, the aurora borealis, the Fram buried under the ice which almost annihilated her, the crew working fifteen days with pickaxes to clear away the ice, the sledges, the dogs, the windmill at the mizzen mast for driving the electric dynamo, the moonlight, Nansen’s departure, etc., are so many pictures which one cannot look at without heartfelt emotion, and which leave far behind everything written or pictured by Jules Verne in Captain Hatteras.
We leave the Fram at nine p.m. after hearty farewells.
During the night the Nansen expedition peacefully took its course to the south. They have still on board provisions and coal for three years.
Sunday, August 16th.—The snow ceased falling, and the sun who does not renounce his rights, comes for an instant to restore another glimmer of hope; the wind, although mild, vacillates and appears to tend northwards. Another disappointment.
At last, on Monday, August 17th, after twenty-one days of waiting in feverish anxiety, Andrée resigns himself to open the valves of the balloon, which is quite full; and it is with regret, easily understood, that I watch the escape of 17,658 cubic feet of gas, to produce which gave us so much labour.