al martyrdom, a new mistake of the erring human soul, this
banishing of one's self to the hopeless wilderness, only to long there
for what one has left behind? Am I a coward? Am I afraid of death? Oh,
no! but in these nights such longing can come over one for all beauty,
for that which is contained in a single word, and the soul flees from
this interminable and rigid world of ice. When one thinks how short
life is, and that one came away from it all of one's own free will,
and remembers, too, that another is suffering the pain of constant
anxiety--'true, true till death.' 'O mankind, thy ways are passing
strange! We are but as flakes of foam, helplessly driven over the
tossing sea.'

"Wednesday, October 10th. Exactly 33 years old, then. There is nothing
to be said to that, except that life is moving on, and will never turn
back. They have all been touchingly nice to me to-day, and we have held
fete. They surprised me in the morning by having the saloon ornamented
with flags. They had hung the 'Union' above Sverdrup's place. [69]
We accused Amundsen of having done this, but he would not confess to
it. Above my door and on over Hansen's they had the pennant with Fram
in big letters. It looked most festive when I came into the saloon,
and they all stood up and wished me 'Many happy returns.' When I went
on deck the flag was waving from the mizzenmast-head.

"We took a snow-shoeing excursion south in the morning. It was windy,
bitter weather; I have not felt so cold for long. The thermometer
is down to 24 deg. Fahr. below zero (-31 deg. C.) this evening; this is
certainly the coldest birthday I have had yet. A sumptuous dinner:
1. Fish-pudding. 2. Sausages and tongue, with potatoes, haricot
beans, and pease. 3. Preserved strawberries, with rice and cream;
Crown extract of malt. Then, to every one's surprise, our doctor
began to take out of the pocket of the overcoat he always wears
remarkable-looking little glasses--medicine-glasses, measuring-glasses,
test-glasses--one for each man, and lastly a whole bottle of Lysholmer
liqueur--real native Lysholmer--which awakened general enthusiasm. Two
drams of that per man was not so bad, besides a quarter of a bottle
of extract of malt. Coffee after dinner, with a surprise in the shape
of apple-cake, baked by our excellent cook, Pettersen, formerly smith
and engineer. Then I had to produce my cigars, which were also much
enjoyed; and of course we kept holiday all the afternoon. At