Fridtjof Nansen Part 2

"Ay, he was a chap after bears!" said one of the sailors afterward; "just as much under the water as over it, when he was after bears. I told him that he was going to injure his health that way; but he only laughed, and pointing to his woollen jersey said, 'I do not feel cold.'"

To Fridtjof Nansen this Arctic expedition became the turning-point of his life. The dream of the mighty ocean never left him; it was ever before his eyes with all its inexplicable riddles.

Here was something to do--something that people called impossible. He would test it. Some years, however, must elapse before that dream should become reality. Nansen must first be a man. Everything that tended to r.e.t.a.r.d his progress must be removed or shattered to pieces--all that would promote it, improved upon and set in order.

CHAPTER III.

Fridtjof Nansen Accepts a Position in the Bergen Museum.--Crosses the Mountains in the Winter.--Prepares Himself for the Doctor's Degree.

The very same day that Nansen set foot on land after his return from this expedition he was offered the Conservatorship of the Bergen [13]

Museum by Professor Collett. Old Danielsen, the chief physician, a man of iron capacity for work, and who had attained great renown in his profession, wanted to place a new man in charge. Nansen promptly accepted the offer, but asked first to be allowed to visit a sister in Denmark. But a telegram from Danielsen, "Nansen must come at once," compelled him, though with no little regret, to give up his projected visit.

The meeting of these two men was as if two clouds heavily laden with electricity had come in contact, producing a spark that blazed over the northern sky. That spark resulted in the famous Greenland expedition.

Danielsen was one of those who held that a youth possessed of health, strength, and good abilities should be able to unravel almost anything and everything in this world, and in Fridtjof Nansen he found such an one. So these two worked together a.s.siduously; for both were alike enthusiastic in the cause of science, both possessed the same strong faith in its advancement. And Danielsen, the clear-headed scientist, after being a.s.sociated with his colleague for some few years, entertained such firm confidence in his powers and capabilities, that a short time before the expedition to the North Pole set out, he wrote in a letter:--

"Fridtjof Nansen will as surely return crowned with success from the North Pole as it is I who am writing these lines--such is an old man's prophecy!"

The old scientist, who felt his end was drawing near, sent him before his death an antic.i.p.atory letter of greeting when the expedition should happily be over.

Nansen devoted himself to the study of science with the same indomitable energy that characterized all of his achievements.

Hour by hour he would sit over his microscope, month after month devote himself to the pursuit of knowledge. Yet every now and then, when he felt he must go out to get some fresh air, he would buckle on his ski, and dash along over the mountain or through the forest till the snow spurted up in clouds behind him. Thus he spent several years in Bergen.

But one fine day, chancing to read in the papers that Nordenskjold had returned from his expedition to Greenland, and had said that the interior of the country was a boundless plain of ice and snow, it flashed on his mind that here was a field of work for him. Yes--he would cross Greenland on ski! and he at once set to work to prepare a plan for the expedition. But such an adventurous task, in which life would be at stake, must not be undertaken till he himself had become a proficient in that branch of science which he had selected as his special study. So he remains yet some more years in Bergen, after which he spends twelve months in Naples, working hard at the subjects in which he subsequently took his doctor's degree in 1888.

Those years of expectation in Bergen were busy years. Every now and then he would become homesick. In winter time he would go by the railway from Bergen to Voss, [14] thence on ski over the mountains to Christiania, down the Stalheim road,1 with its sinuous twists and bends, on through Naerodal, noted for its earth slips, on by the swift Lerdals river fretting and fuming on one side, and a perpendicular mountain wall on the other. And here he would sit to rest in that narrow gorge where avalanches are of constant occurrence. Let them come! he must rest awhile and eat. A solitary wayfarer hurries by on his sleigh as fast as his horse will go. "Take care!" shouts the traveller as he pa.s.ses by; and Nansen looks up, gathers his things together, and proceeds on his journey through the valley. It was Sauekilen, the most dangerous spot in Lerdals, where he was resting. Then the night falls, the moon shines brightly overhead, and the creaking sound of his footsteps follows him over the desert waste, and his dark-blue shadow stays close beside him. And he, the man possessed of ineffable pride and indomitable resolution, feels how utterly insignificant he is in that lonely wilderness of snow--naught but an insect under the powerful microscope of the starlit sky, for the far-seeing eye of the Almighty is piercing through his inmost soul. Here it avails not to seek to hide aught from that gaze. So he pours out his thoughts to Him who alone has the right to search them. That midnight pilgrimage over the snowy waste was like a divine service on ski; and it was as an invigorated man, weary though he was in body, that he knocked at the door of a peasant's cabin, while its astonished inmates looked out in amazement, and the old housewife cried out, "Nay! in Jesus' name, are there folk on the fjeld [15] so late in the night? Nay! is it you? Suppose you are always so late on the road!"

Even still more arduous was the return journey that same winter. The people in the last house on the eastern side of the mountain, in bidding him "G.o.d speed," entreat him to go cautiously, for the road over the fjeld is well nigh impa.s.sable in winter, they say. Not a man in the whole district would follow him, they add. Nansen promises them to be very careful, as he sets off in the moonlight at three o'clock in the morning. Soon he reaches the wild desert, and the glittering snow blushes like a golden sea in the beams of the rising sun. Presently he reaches Myrstolen. [16] The houseman is away from home, and the women-folk moan and weep on learning the road he means to take. On resuming his journey he shortly comes to a cross-road. Shall it be Aurland or Vosse skavlen? [17] He chooses the latter route across the snow plateau, for it is the path the wild reindeer follow. On he skims over the crisp surface enveloped in the cloud of snow-dust his ski stir up, for the wind is behind him. But now he loses his way, falls down among the clefts and fissures, toils along step by step, and at last has to turn back and retrace his steps. There ought to be a saeter [18] somewhere about there, but it seems as if it had been spirited away. A pitchy darkness sets in; for the stars have disappeared one by one, and the night is of a coal-black hue, and Fridtjof has to make his bed on the snow-covered plateau, under the protecting shelter of a bowlder, his faithful dog by his side, his knapsack for a pillow, while the night wind howls over the waste.

Again, at three in the morning, he resumes his journey, only again to lose his way, and burying himself in the snow, determines to wait for daybreak. Dawn came over the mountain-tops in a sea of rosy light, while the dark shadows of night fled to their hiding-places in the deep valleys below--a proclamation of eternity, where nature was the preacher and nature the listener, the voice of G.o.d speaking to himself.

At broad daylight he sees Vosse skavlen close at hand, and thither he drags his weary, stiffened limbs; but on reaching the summit he drinks "skaal [19] to the fjeld," a frozen orange, the last he has, being his beverage. Before the sun sets again, Fridtjof has crossed that mountain height, as King Sverre [20] did of yore--an achievement performed by those two alone!

Fridtjof Nansen's father died in 1885, and it was largely consideration for his aged parent's failing health during the last few years that delayed Nansen's setting out on his Greenland expedition. The letters that pa.s.sed between father and son during this period strikingly evince the tender relationship existing between them. On receipt of the tidings of his father's last illness he hurried off at a moment's notice, never resting on his long homeward journey, inexpressibly grieved at arriving too late to see him alive.

Then, after a year's sojourn in Naples, where he met the genial and energetic Professor Dohrn, the founder of the biological station [21] in that city, having no further ties to hinder him, he enters heart and soul into the tasks he has set himself to accomplish,--to take his degree as doctor of philosophy, and to make preparation for his expedition to Greenland, both of which tasks he accomplished in the same year with credit. For he not only made himself a name as a profound researcher in the realms of science, but at the same time equipped an expedition that was soon destined to excite universal attention, not in the north alone, but throughout the length and breadth of Europe.

CHAPTER IV.

Nansen Meets Nordenskjold. [22]--Preparations for the Greenland Expedition.--Nansen's Followers on the Expedition.--Starting on the Expedition.--Drifting on an Ice-floe.--Landing on East Coast of Greenland.

Nansen had an arduous task before him in the spring of 1888, one that demanded all his strength and energy, for he would take his doctor's degree, and make preparations for his expedition to Greenland.

He had already, in the autumn of 1887, made up his mind to accomplish both these things. In November of that year, accordingly, he went to Stockholm to confer with Nordenskjold. Professor Brogger, who introduced him to that gentleman, gives the following account of the interview:--

"On Thursday, Nov. 3, as I was sitting in my study in the Mineralogical Inst.i.tute, my messenger came in and said a Norwegian had been inquiring for me. He had left no card, neither had he given his name. Doubtless, I thought, it was some one who wanted help out of a difficulty.

"'What was he like?' I inquired.

"'Tall and fair,' replied the messenger.

"'Was he dressed decently?' I asked.

"'He hadn't an overcoat on.' This with a significant smile, as he added, 'Looked for all the world like a seafaring man--or a tramp.'

"'Humph!' I muttered to myself; 'sailor with no overcoat! Very likely thinks I'm going to give him one--yes, I think I understand.'

"Later on in the afternoon Wille [23] came in. 'Have you seen Nansen?' he said.

"'Nansen?' I replied. 'Was that sailor fellow without an overcoat Nansen?'

"'Without an overcoat! Why, he means to cross over the inland ice of Greenland;' and out went Wille--he was in a hurry.

"Presently entered Professor Lecke with the same question, 'Have you seen Nansen? Isn't he a fine fellow? such a lot of interesting discoveries he told me of, and then his researches into the nervous system--a grand fellow!' and off went Lecke.

"But before long the man himself entered the room. Tall, upright, broad-shouldered, strongly built, though slim and very youthful looking, with his shock of hair brushed off his well-developed forehead. Coming toward me and holding out his hand, he introduced himself by name, while a pleasing smile played over his face.

"'And you mean to cross over Greenland?' I asked.

"'Yes; I've been thinking of it,' was the reply.

"I looked him in the face, as he stood before me with an air of conscious self-reliance about him. With every word he spoke he seemed to grow on me; and this plan of his to cross over Greenland on ski from the east coast, which but a moment ago I had looked on as a madman's idea, during our conversation gradually grew on me, till it seemed to be the most natural thing in the world; and all at once it flashed on my mind, 'And he'll do it, too, as sure as ever we are sitting here talking about it.'

"He, whose name but two hours ago I had not known, became in those few minutes (and it all came about so naturally) as if he were an old acquaintance, and I felt I should be proud and fortunate indeed to have him for my friend my whole life through.

"'We will go and see Nordenskjold at once,' I said, rising up. And we went.

"With his strange attire,--he was dressed in a tight-fitting, dark-blue blouse or coatee, a kind of knitted jacket,--he was, as may be supposed, stared at in Drottning-gatan. Some people, indeed, took him for an acrobat or tight-rope dancer."

Nordenskjold, "old Nor" as he was often termed, was in his laboratory, and looked up sharply as his two visitors entered the room, for he was, as ever, "busy."

The professor saluted, and introduced his companion, "Conservator Nansen from Bergen, who purposes to cross over the inland ice of Greenland."

"The deuce he does!" muttered "old Nor," staring with all his eyes at the fair-haired young viking.

"And would like to confer with you about it," continued the professor.

"Quite welcome; and so Herr Nansen thinks of crossing over Greenland?"