. Each man had to deliver up his old clothes,
every stitch of them, wash himself, and dress in new ones from top to
toe. All the old clothes, fur rugs, and such things, were carefully
carried up on to the deck, and kept there the whole winter. This was
more than even these animals could stand; 53 deg. C. of cold proved to
be too much for them, and we saw no more of them. As the bug is made
to say in the popular rhyme:

"'Put me in the boiling pot, and shut me down tight;
But don't leave me out on a cold winter night!'

"Friday, October 6th. Cold, down to 11 deg. below zero (Fahr.). To-day
we have begun to rig up the windmill. The ice has been packing to
the north of the Fram's stern. As the dogs will freeze if they are
kept tied up and get no exercise, we let them loose this afternoon,
and are going to try if we can leave them so. Of course they at
once began to fight, and some poor creatures limped away from the
battle-field scratched and torn. But otherwise great joy prevailed;
they leaped, and ran, and rolled themselves in the snow. Brilliant
aurora in the evening.

"Saturday, October 7th. Still cold, with the same northerly wind we
have had all these last days. I am afraid we are drifting far south
now. A few days ago we were, according to the observations, in 78 deg.
47' north latitude. That was 16' south in less than a week. This
is too much; but we must make it up again; we must get north. It
means going away from home now, but soon it will mean going nearer
home. What depth of beauty, with an undercurrent of endless sadness,
there is in these dreamily glowing evenings! The vanished sun has
left its track of melancholy flame. Nature's music, which fills
all space, is instinct with sorrow that all this beauty should be
spread out day after day, week after week, year after year, over a
dead world. Why? Sunsets are always sad at home too. This thought
makes the sight seem doubly precious here and doubly sad. There is
red burning blood in the west against the cold snow--and to think
that this is the sea, stiffened in chains, in death, and that the
sun will soon leave us, and we shall be in the dark alone! 'And the
earth was without form and void;' is this the sea that is to come?

"Sunday, October 8th. Beautiful weather. Made a snow-shoe expedition
westward, all the dogs following. The running was a little spoiled
by the brine, which soaks up through the snow from the surface of
the ice--flat