THE WHITE WORLD 



As soon as everything was made snug for the winter 

 Mr. Baldwin, pursuant to his instructions, asked for vol- 

 unteers to remain at the hut through the winter to guard 

 the supplies and care for the dogs. All five of the Nor- 

 wegian members of the party offered their services, and 

 great was the disappointment of the three who were not 

 chosen. The two men assigned to the task were Paul 

 Bjoervig and Bernt Bentzen, of Tromso, Arctic sailors, 

 neighbors, and warm friends. Together they had often 

 talked of the pleasure it would be to pass a winter in the 

 Arctics in a little hut well stocked with food and tobacco, 

 and this was to be the realization of their dream. 



Their enthusiasm was not due to inexperience. Paul 

 Bjoervig was a veteran Arctic sailor and traveler, as we 

 have seen. Bernt Bentzen had been a member of Dr. 

 Nansen's crew aboard the Fram on that famous drift- 

 voyage through the polar seas. Both men were happy and 

 well when their comrades left them and started for our 

 headquarters at Cape Tegetthoff, just at the beginning of 

 winter. It is a coincidence that but a few miles to the 

 westward of this hut is the spot where Nansen and Johan- 

 sen passed the winter of 1895-96 in a similar structure, built 

 out of such materials as could be found upon the ground. 



On February 18 we set out from the winter quarters 

 on our way toward the Pole. There were four of us, Emil 

 and Olaf Ellefsen, Daniel Johansen, and the writer. My 

 American comrades were ill and unable to go. We had 

 started very early, earlier than any other party had every 

 set out in high latitudes. The sun had not yet risen, and 

 the days were short and dark. Why did we start so early? 

 Because the season of travel in the Arctic is a limited one, 

 being restricted to the no or 115 days which elapse be- 

 tween the coming of dawn and the warmer weather of early 

 summer. The winter is too dark for travel; in the summer 

 the surface of the ice which covers the polar sea is much 

 broken up, the snow is soft and " sticky," and pockets in 

 the ice are filled with sludge and water. It is anything 

 but a pleasant task to crawl out of your snug winter hut, in 

 the dim dawn-light, and take to the field, living in a tent, 

 working like a plow-horse, and trying to sleep in a bag 

 half-filled with ice in a temperature of 50 below zero. Had 



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