Meeting of Nansen and Jackson.
By Permission of Harper & Brothers.
After proceeding some distance he came on the tracks of an animal. They were too large to be those of a fox, and too small for a wolf. They must be dog tracks, then! A distant bark at that moment fell on his ear, more distinct than ever, and off he set at full speed in the direction of the sound, so that the snow dust whirled up in clouds behind him, every nerve and muscle of his body quivering with excitement. He passed a great many tracks, with foxes’ tracks interspersed among them. A long time now elapsed during which he could hear nothing, as he went zigzagging in among the hummocks, and his heart began to sink at every step he took. Suddenly, however, he thought he could hear the sound of a human voice—a strange voice—the first for three years! His heart beat, the blood flew to his brain, and springing up on the top of a hummock, he hallooed with all the strength of his lungs. Behind that human voice in the midst of this desert of ice stood home, and she who was waiting there!
An answering shout came back far, far off, dying away in the distance, and before long he discerned some dark form among the hummocks farther ahead. It was a dog! But behind it another form was visible—a man’s form!
Nansen remained where he was, rooted to the spot, straining eyes and ears as the form gradually drew near, and then set off once more to meet it, as if it were a matter of life and death.
They approached each other. Nansen waved his hat; the stranger did the same.
They met.
That stranger was the English arctic traveller, Mr. Jackson.
They shook hands; and Jackson said,—