ded. I wrote thus:
"In the afternoon we let the puppies loose on the ice, and 'Kvik'
at once took long expeditions with them to familiarize them with
their surroundings. First she introduced them to our meteorological
apparatus, then to the bear-trap, and after that to different
pressure-mounds. They were very cautious at first, staring timidly
all around, and venturing out very slowly, a step at a time, from
the ship's side; but soon they began to run riot in their newly
discovered world.

"'Kvik' was very proud to conduct her litter out into the world,
and roamed about in the highest of spirits, though she had only
just returned from a long driving expedition, in which, as usual,
she had done good work in harness. In the afternoon one of the black
and white puppies had an attack of madness. It ran round the ship,
barking furiously; the others set on it, and it bit at everything
that came in its way. At last we got it shut in on the deck forward,
where it was furious for a while, then quieted down, and now seems
to be all right again. This makes the fourth that has had a similar
attack. What can it possibly be? It cannot be hydrophobia, or it
would have appeared among the grown-up dogs. Can it be toothache, or
hereditary epilepsy--or some other infernal thing?" Unfortunately,
several of them died from these strange attacks. The puppies were
such fine, nice animals, that we were all very sorry when a thing
like this occurred.

On June 3d I write: "Another of the puppies died in the forenoon
from one of those mysterious attacks, and I cannot conceal from
myself that I take it greatly to heart, and feel low-spirited
about it, I have been so used to these small polar creatures living
their sorrowless life on deck, romping and playing around us from
morning to evening, and a little of the night as well. I can watch
them with pleasure by the hour together, or play with them as with
little children--have a game at hide-and-seek with them round the
skylight, the while they are beside themselves with glee. It is the
largest and strongest of the lot that has just died, a handsome dog;
I called him 'Loeva' (Lion). He was such a confiding, gentle animal,
and so affectionate. Only yesterday he was jumping and playing about
and rubbing himself against me, and to-day he is dead. Our ranks are
thinning, and the worst of it is we try in vain to make out what it is
that ails them. This one was apparently quite in his normal condition