ning and cutting up walrus
till they were saturated with blubber, oil, and blood, but soon they
had two great heaps of blubber and meat on shore well covered over
with walrus hides.

[Illustration: THE SHIP THAT WENT FARTHEST NORTH: THE _FRAM_. From
a photograph.]

September was occupied in building a hut amid the frost and snow with
walrus hides and tusks, warmed inside with train-oil lamps. Here under
bear skins they slept and passed the long months of winter. In October
the sun disappeared, the days grew darker. Life grew very monotonous,
for it was the third Polar winter the explorers had been called on
to spend. They celebrated Christmas Day, Nansen by washing himself
in a "quarter of a cup of warm water," Johansen by turning his shirt.
The weather outside was stormy and almost took their breath away with
its icy coldness. They longed for a book, but they wiled away the hours
by trying to calculate how far the _Fram_ could have drifted and when
she was likely to reach home. They were distressed at the dirt of their
clothes, and longed to be able to throw away the heavy oily rags that
seemed glued to their bodies. They had no soap, and water had no effect
on the horrible grease. It was May before the weather allowed them
to leave the hut at last. Hopefully they dragged their kayaks over
the snow, the sledge runners fastened on to their feet, and so made
their way southwards down Franz Josef Land.

Once Nansen was very nearly drowned. The explorers had reached the
south of the Islands, and, having moored their little boats together,
they ascended a hummock close by, when to their horror they saw the
kayaks were adrift. Nansen rushed down, threw off some clothes, and
sprang into the water after them. He was none too soon, for already
the boats were drifting rapidly away. The water was icy cold, but it
was a case of life or death. Without the boats they were lost men.
"All we possessed was on board," says Nansen, "so I exerted myself
to the utmost. I redoubled my exertions though I felt my limbs gradually
stiffening; at last I was able to stretch out my hand to the edge of
the kayak. I tried to pull myself up, but the whole of my body was
stiff with cold. After a time I managed to swing one leg up on to the
edge and to tumble up. Nor was it easy to paddle in the double vessel;
the gusts of wind seemed to go right through me as I stood there in
my wet woollen shirt. I shivered, my teeth chattered, and I was numb
all