The Journal of a Sporting Nomad 
park of artillery were at practice in the vicinity. 
This is disturbing to one who is unaccustomed 
to the sound, but one soon gets used to it. Being 
in a facetious mood one morning, I carved on a 
piece of board with my knife the famous verse : 
“O Solitude! where are the charms 
That sages have seen in thy face? 
Better dwell in the midst of alarms 
Than reign in this horrible place.” 
I then nailed it firmly to the blade of an oar, 
and stuck it upright in the ground, piling a large 
cairn of big stones round the base of the oar to 
prevent its being knocked down by the wind and 
weather. It may be there to this day, unless 
some wanderer has demolished my handiwork, 
but men who are in the habit of visiting such 
places would, I think, be the last persons to 
touch such a sign-post. They are apt to treat 
life somewhat seriously and would hardly be 
likely to destroy what might seem to them the 
finger-post of a possible tragedy ! 
I used to spend the greater part of the day with 
Andrée. He and I became great friends. Ione day 
asked him if he would take me along with him 
on his expedition to try and find the North Pole, 
but he laughingly refused. ‘‘ My crew must be 
all Swedes ; I would not take even a Norwegian.” 
I was not joking when I made this suggestion ; 
I really meant what I said, and would have 
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