This was the last perilous adventure on this marvellous expedition.
Chapter X.
Meeting with Jackson.—Return to Norway on the Windward.—Fram Returns to Norway.—Royal Welcome Home.
It was June 17, Henrik Wergeland’s[1] birthday. Nansen had been down to the edge of the ice to fetch some salt water, and had got up on a hummock in order to have a good look about. A brisk breeze was blowing off land, bearing with it the confused sound of bird-cries from the distant rocks. As he stood listening to these sounds of life in that wild desert, which he thought no human eye had ever seen, or human foot trodden before, a noise like the bark of a dog fell on his ear. He started with amazement.
Could there be dogs here? Impossible! He must have been mistaken. It must have been the bird-cries! But no—there it was again! First a single bark, then the full cry of a whole pack. There was a deep bark, succeeded by a sharper one. There could be no doubt about it! Then he remembered that only the day before he had heard a couple of reports resembling gunshots, but had thought it was only the ice splitting and cracking. He now called to Johansen, who was in the tent.
“I can hear dogs over yonder!” he said.
Johansen, who was lying asleep, jumped up and bundled out of the tent. “Dogs?” No! he could not take that in; but all the same went up and stood beside Nansen to listen. “It must be your imagination!” he said. He certainly had on one or two occasions, he said, heard sounds like the barking of a dog, but they had been so drowned in the bird-cries that he did not think much of it. To which Nansen replied that he might think what he liked, but that for his part he intended to set out as soon as they had had breakfast.
So it was arranged that Johansen should stay there to see to the kayaks, while Nansen set out on this expedition.
Before finally starting, Nansen once more got up on the hummock and listened, but could hear nothing. However, off he started, though he felt some doubts in his own mind. What if it were a delusion after all?