her, with sunshine--a
beautiful, inspiriting winter day--but the same northerly wind. Took
soundings, and found 50 fathoms of water (90 metres). We are drifting
slowly southward. Towards evening the ice packed together again with
much force; but the Fram can hold her own. In the afternoon I fished
in a depth of about 27 fathoms (50 metres) with Murray's silk net,
[33] and had a good take, especially of small crustaceans (Copepoda,
Ostracoda, Amphipoda, etc.) and of a little Arctic worm (Spadella)
that swims about in the sea. It is horribly difficult to manage a
little fishing here. No sooner have you found an opening to slip
your tackle through than it begins to close again, and you have to
haul up as hard as you can, so as not to get the line nipped and
lose everything. It is a pity, for there are interesting hauls to
be made. One sees phosphorescence [34] in the water here whenever
there is the smallest opening in the ice. There is by no means such
a scarcity of animal life as one might expect.

"Friday, October 13th. Now we are in the very midst of what the
prophets would have had us dread so much. The ice is pressing and
packing round us with a noise like thunder. It is piling itself up into
long walls, and heaps high enough to reach a good way up the Fram's
rigging; in fact, it is trying its very utmost to grind the Fram into
powder. But here we sit quite tranquil, not even going up to look at
all the hurly-burly, but just chatting and laughing as usual. Last
night there was tremendous pressure round our old dog-floe. The ice
had towered up higher than the highest point of the floe and hustled
down upon it. It had quite spoiled a well, where we till now had found
good drinking-water, filling it with brine. Furthermore, it had cast
itself over our stern ice-anchor and part of the steel cable which
held it, burying them so effectually that we had afterwards to cut
the cable. Then it covered our planks and sledges, which stood on
the ice. Before long the dogs were in danger, and the watch had to
turn out all hands to save them. At last the floe split in two. This
morning the ice was one scene of melancholy confusion, gleaming in
the most glorious sunshine. Piled up all round us were high, steep
ice walls. Strangely enough, we had lain on the very verge of the
worst confusion, and had escaped with the loss of an ice-anchor, a
piece of steel cable, a few planks and other bits of wood, and half
of a Samoyede sledge, all