supper
there was another surprise--a large birthday cake from the same baker,
with the inscription 'T. L. M. D.' (Til lykke med dagen, the Norwegian
equivalent for 'Wishing a happy birthday'), '10.10.94.' In the evening
came pineapples, figs, and sweets. Many a worse birthday might be
spent in lower latitudes than 81 deg.. The evening is passing with all
kinds of merriment; every one is in good spirits; the saloon resounds
with laughter--how many a merry meeting it has been the scene of!

"But when one has said good-night and sits here alone, sadness comes;
and if one goes on deck there are the stars high overhead in the clear
sky. In the south is a smouldering aurora arch, which from time to
time sends up streamers; a constant, restless flickering.

"We have been talking a little about this expedition, Sverdrup and
I. When we were out on the ice in the afternoon he suddenly said,
'Yes, next October you will, perhaps, not be on board the Fram.' To
which I had to answer that, unless the winter turned out badly, I
probably should not. But still I cannot believe in this rightly myself.

"Every night I am at home in my dreams, but when the morning breaks
I must again, like Helge, gallop back on the pale horse by the way
of the reddening dawn, not to the joys of Valhalla, but to the realm
of eternal ice.

"'For thee alone Sigrun,
Of the Saeva Mountain,
Must Helge swim
In the dew of sorrow.'

"Friday, October 12th. A regular storm has been blowing from the
E.S.E. since yesterday evening. Last night the mill went to bits;
the teeth broke off one of the toothed wheels, which has been
considerably worn by a year's use. The velocity of the wind was over
40 feet this morning, and it is long since I have heard it blow as
it is doing this evening. We must be making good progress north just
now. Perhaps October is not to be such a bad month as I expected from
our experiences of last year. Was out snow-shoeing before dinner. The
snow was whistling about my ears. I had not much trouble in getting
back; the wind saw to that. A tremendous snow squall is blowing just
now. The moon stands low in the southern sky, sending a dull glow
through the driving masses. One has to hold on to one's cap. This
is a real dismal polar night, such as one imagines it to one's self
sitting at home far away in the south. But it makes me cheerful to
come on deck, for I