CHAPTER XV. 



A DYING PEOPLE. 



IT was so late in the season by this time that we deemed it 

 better to turn southwards towards the ' Fram.' Between us and 

 the ship was a large country deeply indented by great fjords. 

 We thought we could better make use of the time still at our 

 disposal by examining them than by wasting it and our own 

 strength in working a way through so much almost impassable 

 ice. 



We meant, however, to have a feast at our farthest point north, 

 and bring out the best we had for the occasion. For the moment 

 we could think of nothing more delicious than ' smorgrod ' and 

 fillets off the hares afterwards, by way of solid food. We there- 

 fore set to work to make real proper ' smorgrod,' with flour and the 

 best Danish butter, according to all the prescribed rules. The 

 ' porridge,' as we call it, we found so excellent that we straightway 

 named the place, as I have mentioned before, ' Smorgrautberget,' 

 or ' Butter Porridge Mountain.' 



On May 13 we started back. The weather had changed by 

 this time, and everything was grey, the air thick, the snow 

 terribly slow going. We had not so much on our sledges now, 

 it is true, but it was as much as we could do to drag them 

 along, step by step, the whole way south. About midday we 

 reached the place where I had shot my first wolf. I had left the 

 skull behind, but I now thought I would take it back with me if 

 I could find it. I found both it and the flesh which the dogs had 

 scorned ; it was lying untouched. 



On our way on south we saw an old polar ox standing on a 

 little sand-hill on a low point a few steps above the ice-foot. We 



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