110 ON THE WAY TO THE SOUTH 



gone round, patting and talking to every one. If by 

 chance one was so careless as to miss a dog, he at once 

 showed the most unmistakable signs of disappointment. 

 There can hardly be an animal that is capable of 

 expressing its feelings to the same extent as the dog. 

 Joy, sorrow, gratitude, scruples of conscience, are all 

 reflected as plainly as could be desired in his behaviour, 

 and above all in his eyes. We human beings are apt 

 to cherish the conviction that we have a monopoly of 

 what is called a living soul; the eyes, it is said, are the 

 mirror of this soul. That is all right enough; but now 

 take a look at a dog's eyes, study them attentively. 

 How often do we see something ' human ' in their 

 expression, the same variations that we meet with in 

 human eyes. This, at all events, is something that 

 strikingly resembles " soul." We will leave the ques- 

 tion open for those who are interested in its solution, 

 and will here only mention another point, which seems 

 to show that a dog is something more than a mere 

 machine of flesh and blood his pronounced indivi- 

 duality. There were about a hundred dogs on board 

 the Fram. Gradually, as we got to know each one of 

 them by daily intercourse, they each revealed some 

 characteristic trait, some peculiarity. Hardly two of 

 them were alike, either in disposition or in appearance. 

 To an observant eye there was here ample opportunity 

 for the most amusing exercise. If now and then one 

 grew a little tired of one's fellow-men which, I must 



