328 THE FRIENDLY ARCTIC 



terpreted to mean that he was shouting, and when I turned my 

 glasses on the camp Ole was scrambling out of the tent and Thom- 

 sen had stopped his dog feeding and was looking at Storkerson. 

 A moment later both of them started towards him on the run. 



This could mean only one thing — a new land a great deal larger 

 than any of the scattered islands we had been seeing all day. I 

 stood up on my hummock and looked carefully from northeast to 

 east but nothing could be seen but the level horizon. The greater 

 height of Storkerson's hummock and the five-mile advantage in 

 position accounted for the difference. 



Now I started for the camp — that I did not run was a matter 

 of deliberate intent. That a big new land could actually have been 

 found seemed too good to be true. The behavior of Storkerson 

 and the others was open to no other logical interpretation, but I 

 decided to pretend to be illogical for the moment, attempting to 

 guard against a possible reaction. 



But Storkerson came to meet me along the sled trail, which he 

 never would have done under ordinary circumstances, while Thom- 

 sen and Ole had opened up the sled loads which had already been 

 covered and lashed for the night. This I understood also, for they 

 were Norwegians and Norwegians are the greatest people in the 

 world for celebrating every conceivable happening by some sort 

 of feast. Evidently they were hunting for something special to 

 eat and I knew what it would be. There was a big packing box 

 which had formerly contained biscuits but in which we had for a 

 long time been carrying something else. There were a few biscuit 

 crumbs in the comers and so it had to be emptied of the goods 

 packed in it and these crumbs scraped together. The saving of the 

 crumbs had been accidental but we had saved deliberately a little 

 malted milk on the theory that somebody might get sick, though 

 it is almost inconceivable in such work, done under such disease- 

 forbidding conditions, that any one in normal health should lose 

 it. I always feel hoarding food as a mental strain, and for 

 that reason I was delighted when I found that Ole had the milk 

 boiling. 



We first went up on the hummock, all of us, and took turns in 

 looking at the new land. It lay indubitable along the horizon from 

 northeast to east by north, but no straining of the eye could reveal 

 any land farther north or farther south. After careful compass 

 bearings and a sketch of the sky line, we went into the tent and 

 celebrated with a sort of stew or soup made of the malted milk and 

 the crumbs. I don't think any of us considered this a better meal 



