The South Pole by Roald Amundsen (pride and prejudice read txt) 📕
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Roald Amundsen Approximate Bird's-eye View, Drawn from the First Telegraphic Account Reproduced by permission of the Daily Chronicle The Opening of Roald Amundsen's Manuscript Helmer Hanssen, Ice Pilot, a Member of the Polar Party The "Fram's" Pigsty The Pig's Toilet Hoisting the Flag A Patient Some Members of the Expedition Sverre Hassel Oscar Wisting In the North-east Trades In the Rigging Taking an Observation Ronne Felt Safer when the Dogs were Muzzled Starboard Watch on the Bridge Olav Bjaaland, a Member of the Polar Party 136 In the Absence of Lady Partners, Ronne Takes a Turn with the Dogs An Albatross In Warmer Regions A Fresh Breeze in the West Wind Belt The Propeller Lifted in the Westerlies The "Fram's" Saloon Decorated for Christmas Eve Ronne at a Sailor's Job The "Fram" In Drift-ice Drift-ice in Ross Sea A Clever Method of Landing The "Fram" under Sail Cape Man's Head on the Barrier Seal-hunting The "Fram" The Crew of the "Fram" in the Bay of Whales The "Fram" in the Ba
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Now all the men have finished unchaining their dogs, and, with their lanterns in their hands, they move in various directions and disappear — apparently into the Barrier surface. There will be many interesting things to see here in the course of the day — I can understand that. What on earth became of all these people? There we have Amundsen; he is left alone, and appears to be in charge of the dogs. I go up to him and make myself known.
“Ah, I’m glad you came,” he says; “now I can introduce you to some of our celebrities. To begin with, here is the trio — Fix, Lasse, and Snuppesen. They always behave like this when I am out — could not think of leaving me in peace for an instant. Fix, that big grey one that looks like a wolf, has many a snap on his conscience. His first exploit was on Flekker�, near Christiansand, where all the dogs were kept for a month after they arrived from Greenland; there he gave Lindstr�m a nasty bite when his back was turned. What do you think of a bite of a mouth like that?”
Fix is now tame, and without a growl allows his master to take hold of his upper and under jaws and open his mouth — ye gods, what teeth! I inwardly rejoice that I was not in Lindstr�m’s trousers that day.
“If you notice,” he continues, with a smile, “you will see that Lindstr�m still sits down cautiously. I myself have a mark on my left calf, and a good many more of us have the same. There are several of us who still treat him with respect. And here we have Lassesen —
that’s his pet name; he was christened Lasse — almost pure black, as you see. I believe he was the wildest of the lot when they came on board. I had him fastened up on the bridge with my other dogs, beside Fix — those two were friends from their Greenland days. But I can tell you that when I had to pass Lasse, I always judged the distance first. As a rule, he just stood looking down at the deck — exactly like a mad bull. If I tried to make overtures, he didn’t move — stood quite still; but I could see how he drew back his upper lip and showed a row of teeth, with which I had no desire to become acquainted. A fortnight passed in this way. Then at last the upper lip sank and the head was raised a little, as though he wanted to see who it was that brought him food and water every day. But the way from that to friendship was long and tortuous. In the time that followed, I used to scratch him on the back with a stick; at first he jumped round, seized the stick, and crushed it between his teeth. I thought myself lucky that it was not my hand. I came a little nearer to him every day, until one day I risked my hand. He gave me an ugly look, but did nothing; and then came the beginning of our friendship. Day by day we became better friends, and now you can see what footing we are on. The third is Snuppesen, a dark red lady; she is their sworn friend, and never leaves them. She is the quickest and most active of our dogs. You can see that she is fond of me; she is generally on her hind legs, and makes every effort to get at my face. I have tried to get her out of the way of that, but in vain; she will have her own way. I have no other animals for the moment that are worth showing —
unless you would care to hear a song. If so, there is Uranus, who is a professional singer. We’ll take the trio with us, and you shall hear.”
We made for two black-and-white dogs that were lying by themselves on the snow a little way off, while the three jumped and danced about us. As we approached the other two, and they caught sight of the trio, they both jumped up as though at a word of command, and I guessed that we had found the singer. Lord save us, what an awful voice! I could see that the concert was for Lasse’s benefit, and Uranus kept it up as long as we stood in his vicinity. But then my attention was suddenly aroused by the appearance of another trio, which made an extraordinary favourable impression. I turned to my companion for information.
“Yes,” he continued, “those are three of Hanssen’s team; probably some of our best animals. The big black-and-white one is called Zanko — he appears to be rather old; the two others, which look like sausages with matches underneath, are Ring and Mylius. As you see, they are not very big, rather on the small side, but they are undoubtedly among our best workers. From their looks we have concluded that they are brothers —
they are as like as two drops of water. Now we will go straight through the mass and see whether we come across any more celebrities. There we have Karenius, Sauen, Schwartz, and Lucy; they belong to Stubberud, and are a power in the camp. Bjaaland’s tent is close by; his favourites are lying there — Kvaen, Lap, Pan, Gorki, and Jaala. They are small, all of them, but fine dogs. There, in the southeast corner, stands Hassel’s tent, but we shall not see any of his dogs here now. They are all lying outside the entrance to the oil-store, where he is generally to be found. The next tent is Wisting’s. We must take a turn round there and see if we can find his lot. There they are —
those four playing there. The big, reddish-brown one on the right is the Colonel, our handsomest animal. His three companions are Suggen, Arne, and Brun. I must tell you a little story about the Colonel when he was on Flekker�. He was perfectly wild then, and he broke loose and jumped into the sea. He wasn’t discovered till he was halfway between Flekker� and the mainland, where he was probably going in search of a joint of mutton. Wisting and Lindstr�m, who were then in charge of the dogs, put off in a boat, and finally succeeded in overtaking him, but they had a hard tussle before they managed to get him on board. Afterwards Wisting had a swimming-race with the Colonel, but I don’t remember what was the result. We can expect a great deal of these dogs. There’s Johansen’s tent over in the corner; there is not much to be said about his dogs. The most remarkable of them is Camilla. She is an excellent mother, and brings up her children very well; she usually has a whole army of them, too.
“Now I expect you have seen dogs enough, so, if you have no objection, I will show you underground Framheim and what goes on there. I may just as well add that we are proud of this work, and you will probably find that we have a right to be. We’ll begin with Hassel, as his department is nearest.”
We now went in the direction of the house, passed its western end, and soon arrived at an erection that looked like a derrick. Underneath it was a large trap-door. Where the three legs of the derrick met, there was made fast a small block, and through the block ran a rope, made fast at one end to the trap-door. A weight hung at the other end, some feet above the surface of the snow.
“Now we are at Hassel’s,” said my companion. It was a good thing he could not see me, for I must have looked rather foolish. At Hassel’s? I said to myself. What in the world does the man mean? We were standing on the bare Barrier.
“Do you hear that noise? That’s Hassel sawing wood.”
Now he bent down and raised the heavy trap-door easily with the help of the weight. Broad steps of snow led down, deep down, into the Barrier. We left the trap-door open, so as to have the benefit of the little daylight there was. My host went first; I followed. After descending four or five steps, we came to a doorway which was covered with a woollen curtain. We pushed this aside. The sound that had first reached me as a low rumbling now became sharper, and I could plainly hear that it was caused by sawing. We went in. The room we entered was long and narrow, cut out of the Barrier. On a solid shelf of snow there lay barrel after barrel arranged in exemplary order; if they were all full of paraffin, I began to understand Lindstr�m’s extravagance in lighting his fire in the morning: here was paraffin enough for several years. In the middle of the room a lantern was hanging, an ordinary one with wire netting round the glass. In a dark room it certainly would not have given much light, but in these white surroundings it shone like the sun. A Primus lamp was burning on the floor. The thermometer, which hung a little way from the Primus, showed -5� F., so Hassel could hardly complain of the heat, but he had to saw, so it did not matter. We approached Hassel. He looked as if he had plenty to do, and was sawing away so that the sawdust was flying. “‘Morning.” — “‘Morning.” The sawdust flew faster and faster. “You seem to be busy to-day.” — “Oh yes!” — the saw was now working with dangerous rapidity — “if I’m to get finished for the holiday, I must hurry up.” — How’s the coal-supply getting on?” That took effect. The saw stopped instantly, was raised, and put down by the wall. I waited for the next step in suppressed excitement; something hitherto undreamt of must be going to happen. Hassel looked round —
one can never be careful enough — approached my host, and whispered, with every sign of caution “I did him out of twenty-five kilos last week.” I breathed again; I had expected something much worse than that. With a smile of satisfaction Hassel resumed his interrupted work, and I believe nothing in the world would have stopped him again. The last I saw as we returned through the doorway was Hassel surrounded by a halo of sawdust.
We were back on the Barrier surface; a touch of the finger, and the trap-door swung over and fell noiselessly into its place. I could see that Hassel was capable of other things besides sawing birchwood. Outside lay his team, guarding all his movements — Mikkel, R�ven, Masmas, and Else. They all looked well. Now we were going to see the others.
We went over to the entrance of the hut and raised the trap-door; a dazzling light met my eyes. In the wall of the steps leading down from the surface a recess had been cut to hold a wooden case lined with bright tin; this contained a little lamp which produced this powerful light. But it was the surroundings that made it so bright — ice and snow everywhere. Now I could look about me for the first time; it had been dark when I came in the morning. There was
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