A HARD STRUGGLE 19 1 



him that clay. Poor beast ; faithfully he worked for us, 

 good-tempered and willing to the end, and then, for thanks, 

 when he could do no more, to be killed for provender ! 

 He was born on the Fram on December 13, 1893, and, 

 true child of the polar night, never saw aught but ice and 

 snow. 



"Monday, April 29th, —4° Fahr. ( — 20^ C). We had 

 not gone far yesterday when we were stopped by open 

 water — a broad pool or lane Vv^hich lay almost straight 

 across our course. We worked westward alonoiside it for 

 some distance, until it suddenly began to close violently 

 together at a place where it was comparatively narrow. 

 In a few minutes the ice was towering above us, and we 

 got over by means of the noisy pressure-ridge, which was 

 thundering and crashing under our feet. It was a case 

 of bestirring ourselves and driving dogs and sledges 

 quickly over if we did not wish to get jammed between 

 the rolling blocks of ice. This ridge nearly swallowed 

 up Johansen's snow-shoes, which had been left behind for 

 a minute while we Q-ot the last sled2:e over. When at 

 last we got to the other side of the lane the day was far 

 spent, and such work naturally deserved reward in the 

 shape of an extra ration of meat-chocolate. 



" Annoying as it is to be stopped in the midst of 

 beautiful fiat ice by a lane, when one is longing to get on, 

 still, undeniably, it is a wonderful feeling to see open 

 water spread out in front of one, and the sun playing on 

 the light ripples caused by the wind. Fancy open water 



