By Permission of Harper & Brothers
Meanwhile Nansen stood beside his wife, and all eyes turned toward them. But not a trace of anxiety or doubt could be discerned on his frank and open countenance; for he possessed that faith in his project that is able to remove mountains.
The next matter of importance was to select the crew. There was ample material to choose from, for hundreds of volunteers from abroad offered themselves, besides Norwegians. But it was a Norwegian expedition—her crew, then, must be exclusively a national crew! And so Otto Sverdrup, who had earned his laurels in the Greenland expedition; Sigurd Scott-Hansen, first lieutenant in the royal navy; Henrik Greve Blessing, surgeon; Theodor Claudius Jacobsen and Adolf Juell of the mercantile marine; Anton Amundsen and Lars Petterson, engineers; Frederik Hjalmar Johansen, lieutenant of the royal army reserve, Peter Leonard Henriksen, harpooner; Bernt Nordahl, electrician; Ivar Otto Irgens Mogstad, head keeper at the lunatic asylum; and Bernt Berntsen, common sailor,—were selected. Most of them were married and had children.
Sverdrup was to be the Fram’s commander, for Nansen knew that the ship would be safer in his hands than in his own.
Finally, after an incredible deal of hard work in getting everything in order, the day of their departure arrived.
It was midsummer—a dull, gloomy day. The Fram, heavily laden, is lying at Pipperviken Quay, waiting for Nansen. The appointed hour is past, and yet there are no signs of him. Members of the storthing, who had assembled there to bid him farewell, can wait no longer, and the crowds of people that line the quay are one and all anxiously gazing over the fjord.
But presently a quick-sailing little petroleum boat heaves in sight. It swings round Dyna,[2] and quickly lies alongside the Fram; and Nansen goes on board his ship at once, and gives the order to “go ahead.” Every eye is fixed on him. He is as calm as ever, firm as a rock, but his face is pale.
The anchor is weighed; and after making the tour of the little creek, the Fram steams down the fjord. “Full speed” is the command issued from the bridge; and as she proceeds on her way, Nansen turns round to take a farewell look over Svartebugta where Godthaab lies. He discerns a glimpse of a woman’s form dressed in white by the bench under the fir-tree, and then turns his face away; it was there he had bidden her farewell. Little Liv, his only child, had been carried by her mother, crowing and smiling, to bid father good-by, and he had taken her in his arms.
“Yes, you smile, little one!” he said; “but I”—and he sobbed.