than give ourselves up to the ice where we were--especially as our
excursion to the east had proved that following the ice-edge in that
direction would soon force us south again. So in the meantime we made
fast to a great ice-block, and prepared to clean the boiler and shift
coals. "We are lying in open water, with only a few large floes here
and there; but I have a presentiment that this is our winter harbor.

"Great bug war to-day. We play the big steam hose on mattresses,
sofa-cushions--everything that we think can possibly harbor the
enemies. All clothes are put into a barrel, which is hermetically
closed, except where the hose is introduced. Then full steam is set
on. It whizzes and whistles inside, and a little forces its way through
the joints, and we think that the animals must be having a fine hot
time of it. But suddenly the barrel cracks, the steam rushes out,
and the lid bursts off with a violent explosion, and is flung far
along the deck. I still hope that there has been a great slaughter,
for these are horrible enemies. Juell tried the old experiment of
setting one on a piece of wood to see if it would creep north. It would
not move at all, so he took a blubber hook and hit it to make it go;
but it would do nothing but wriggle its head--the harder he hit the
more it wriggled. 'Squash it, then,' said Bentzen. And squashed it was.

"Friday, September 23d. We are still at the same moorings, working at
the coal. An unpleasant contrast--everything on board, men and dogs
included, black and filthy, and everything around white and bright
in beautiful sunshine. It looks as if more ice were driving in.

"Sunday, September 24th. Still coal-shifting. Fog in the morning,
which cleared off as the day went on, when we discovered that we
were closely surrounded on all sides by tolerably thick ice. Between
the floes lies slush-ice, which will soon be quite firm. There is
an open pool to be seen to the north, but not a large one. From the
crow's-nest, with the telescope, we can still descry the sea across
the ice to the south. It looks as if we were being shut in. Well,
we must e'en bid the ice welcome. A dead region this; no life in
any direction, except a single seal (Phoca foetida) in the water;
and on the floe beside us we can see a bear-track some days old. We
again try to get soundings, but still find no bottom; it is remarkable
that there should be such depth here."

Ugh! one can hardly imagine a dirtier, nastier