ther's people resided in that city. When seven years old,
I began going with my father on his fishing trips along the Scandinavian
coast.

Early in life I displayed an aptitude for books, and at the age of nine
years was placed in a private school in Stockholm, remaining there until
I was fourteen. After this I made regular trips with my father on all
his fishing voyages.

My father was a man fully six feet three in height, and weighed over
fifteen stone, a typical Norseman of the most rugged sort, and capable
of more endurance than any other man I have ever known. He possessed the
gentleness of a woman in tender little ways, yet his determination and
will-power were beyond description. His will admitted of no defeat.

I was in my nineteenth year when we started on what proved to be our
last trip as fishermen, and which resulted in the strange story that
shall be given to the world,--but not until I have finished my earthly
pilgrimage.

I dare not allow the facts as I know them to be published while I am
living, for fear of further humiliation, confinement and suffering.
First of all, I was put in irons by the captain of the whaling vessel
that rescued me, for no other reason than that I told the truth about
the marvelous discoveries made by my father and myself. But this was far
from being the end of my tortures.

After four years and eight months' absence I reached Stockholm, only to
find my mother had died the previous year, and the property left by my
parents in the possession of my mother's people, but it was at once made
over to me.

All might have been well, had I erased from my memory the story of our
adventure and of my father's terrible death.

Finally, one day I told the story in detail to my uncle, Gustaf
Osterlind, a man of considerable property, and urged him to fit out an
expedition for me to make another voyage to the strange land.

At first I thought he favored my project. He seemed interested, and
invited me to go before certain officials and explain to them, as I
had to him, the story of our travels and discoveries. Imagine my
disappointment and horror when, upon the conclusion of my narrative,
certain papers were signed by my uncle, and, without warning, I found
myself arrested and hurried away to dismal and fearful confinement in
a madhouse, where I remained for twenty-eight years--long, tedious,
frightful years of suffering!

I never ceased to assert my sanity, and to protest against the