October 30th.
Sonntag is all ready to start. He will take two sledges, with Jensen and Hans for drivers. They are prepared for seven days' absence. I have allowed Sonntag to provide his own equipment, without interference. He has, I think, made it a little more cumbrous than he should,—a little too much for personal comfort, that will be dead weight. Traveling in this region is governed by very rigorous laws, and very little latitude is allowed in the choice of one's outfit. There is probably no place in the world where the traveler is compelled to deny himself so completely those little articles of convenience which contribute so much to the personal satisfaction. On ship-board he may indulge his taste for luxury to the extent of his means; but when he takes to the ice-fields and the dog-sledge he must come down to hard fare and carry nothing but what is absolutely necessary to sustain life,—and this is simply meat, bread, and coffee, or tea if he prefers it. The snow must serve for his bed, and his only covering must be what is just sufficient to keep him from freezing. Fire he cannot have, except the needful lamp to cook his food, and if he should get cold he must warm himself by exercise. During my late journey to the glacier, I carried for fuel only three quarts of alcohol and the same quantity of oil, and this was not all used.
FROST-BITES.
I went this morning into the hold to look after my companions on the recent journey. They have all recovered from their little frost-bites except Christian, whose nose is as big as his fist and as red as a beet. He takes good-naturedly the jeers of his messmates. Knorr is, however, almost as badly off in the nasal region as Christian, but he has suffered no further misadventure. The nose is, indeed, a serious inconvenience to the Arctic traveler, for it insists upon exposing itself upon every occasion; and if you put it under a mask, it revenges itself by coaxing the moisture of the breath up beneath it, so that in an hour's time the intended protector becomes a worse enemy than the wind itself. The mask is, in a little while, but a lump of ice.
KNORR AND STARR.
My youthful secretary, by the way, bore up bravely on the tramp. I should not have taken him but for his constant and earnest appeals. There does not appear to be much of life in him, but he has pluck, and that is an excellent substitute; and thus far this quality has carried him through. My friends told me, before leaving home, that I was needlessly taking him to a very cold grave; but he does not appear inclined to fulfill their predictions, and seems likely to hold his own with the hardest-fisted sailor of the crew. He is but eighteen years old, and, except Starr, who is about the same age, is the youngest member of my party. Starr, too, is a plucky and useful boy. He got into the party against my intentions, but I am very far from sorry. Inspired with enthusiasm for Arctic adventure, he volunteered to go with me in any capacity; and, having no convenient room in the cabin, I told him that he could go in the forecastle, little dreaming that he would accept my offer; but, sure enough, he turned up the next day in sailor's rig. His bright beaver and shining broadcloth and polished pumps had given place to cap and red shirt and sea boots, and I went on board to find the metamorphosed boy of recent elegance manfully at work. Admiring his spirit, I promoted him on the spot, and sent him aft to the sailing-master,—the best I could do for him.
HANS, PETER, AND JACOB.
The rivalry between Hans and Peter waxes warmer. My sympathies go with the latter, of which I have to-day given substantial proof. Up to this time Hans has had charge of Sonntag's team, and has used it pretty much as he pleased; but he being absent this morning, and Jensen being off after some venison, I used Peter to drive me to the lower glacier, where I wished to make some sketches. It appears that this excited Hans' ire against poor Peter; which fact being duly reported by Jensen, I have taken the dogs from Hans and given them into Peter's exclusive charge. So one savage is pleased and the other is displeased; but we shall probably have no public exhibitions of his spleen, as I have read him a lecture upon the evil consequences arising from the display of ill-temper, which he will probably remember,—as likely, however, for evil as for good; for he is not of a forgiving disposition. Jensen tells me that "they have made friends," which probably means mischief.
Hans seems to retain the intelligence for which he was distinguished when in the Advance. His character has undergone but little change, and his face expresses the same traits as formerly,—the same smooth, oily voice, the same cunning little eye, the same ugly disposition. I have very little faith in him; but Sonntag has taken him into his favor, and greatly prefers him to Jensen for a dog-driver.
Peter, on the other hand, is a quiet, unobtrusive fellow, and is always ready and willing to do any thing that is required of him, even by the sailors, with whom he is very popular; and, of course, as with good-nature everywhere, he is sometimes imposed upon. Jacob is Peter's brother, and he continues to be the butt of the forecastle. The men have made a bargain with him, and, according to all accounts, it works satisfactorily. He is to wash their dishes, and they in return are to give him all the crumbs that fall from their table. On these he is growing more and more fat, and he has now greater difficulty than ever in getting about. There is a beam in the fore-hold, only two feet and a half from the floor, which he can no longer climb over. His efforts to crawl under it have been not unaptly compared to those of a seal waddling over the ice about its breathing-hole. Mr. Wardle's fat boy was not more shapeless, and, like that plethoric individual, he chiefly divides his time between eating and sleeping. His cheeks are puffed out in a very ridiculous manner, and altogether he answers very well the description of Mirabeau's corpulent acquaintance, who seemed to have been created for no other purpose than to show to what extent the human skin is capable of being stretched without bursting. The executive officer tells me that he sent him the other day to the upper deck to dress a couple of reindeer; but, having proceeded far enough to expose a tempting morsel, he halted in his work, carved off a slice of the half-frozen flesh, and was found some time afterwards fast asleep between the two dead animals, with the last fragment of his bonne bouche dangling from his lips.