Then will the Fram’s crew
Reach the Pole in months few.
Good luck on thy journey to thee and thy hand,
And a good welcome back to the dear Fatherland!”
These lines, needless to say, were received with great acclamation.
Meanwhile month after month passes without much change. The men on the Fram live their lonely lives. They take observations in the biting frost—Scott Hansen usually attends to this work. The others, who are sitting down in the cabins, often hear a noise of feet on the deck, as if some one were dancing a jig.
“Is it cold?” asks Nansen, when Hansen and his assistants come below.
“Cold? oh, no! not at all!—quite a pleasant temperature!” a piece of information which is received with shouts of laughter.
“Don’t you find it cold about the feet either?”
“No, can’t say I do; but every now and then it’s rather cool for one’s fingers!” He had just had two of his frostbitten.