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Updated: May 18, 2025
Johansen, however, continued violently to urge him on to the completion of his task. "It is a shame," I heard Johnson growling in painfully slow and correct English. He was standing by the main rigging, a few feet away from me. "The boy is willing enough. He will learn if he has a chance. But this is " He paused awhile, for the word "murder" was his final judgment. "Hist, will ye!"
After the Fram had been caught in the ice-pack, Nansen and his companion, Johansen, started toward the north pole with dog sledges. They reached latitude 86° 14'; finding that the ice was drifting southward, they made for Franz Josef Land, where they spent the winter, and then started for Spitzbergen.
Once they had again to cross a strip of open water in kayaks, Nansen was at the edge of the ice when he heard Johansen call out, "Get your gun." Nansen turned and saw that a large bear had knocked Johansen down and was sniffing at him.
"I'll do for you yet, you slab-footed Swede," I heard him say to Johansen one night on deck. The mate cursed him in the darkness, and the next moment some missile struck the galley a sharp rap. There was more cursing, and a mocking laugh, and when all was quiet I stole outside and found a heavy knife imbedded over an inch in the solid wood.
It was during this period, between the death of Johansen and the arrival on the sealing grounds, that I passed my pleasantest hours on the Ghost. Wolf Larsen was quite considerate, the sailors helped me, and I was no longer in irritating contact with Thomas Mugridge. And I make free to say, as the days went by, that I found I was taking a certain secret pride in myself.
"Sorry to disturb you, Miss Ware," he said, "but we're movin' camp this mornin' and before I go I want to tell you about them cattle I'm just sendin' to town. If I didn't have other business on hand I'd go down with you gladly and sell 'em for you, but when you git to Bender you go to Chris Johansen, the cattle buyer, and give him this list.
Big for your age at that, with muscles like a horse. Pack up your kit and go for'ard into the fo'c'sle. You're a boat-puller now. You're promoted; see?" Without waiting for the boy's acceptance, the captain turned to the sailor who had just finished the gruesome task of sewing up the corpse. "Johansen, do you know anything about navigation?" "No, sir,"
He shakes his head dubiously over the outlook for the man Johnson, who is boat- puller in the same boat with him. Johnson has been guilty of speaking his mind too freely, and has collided two or three times with Wolf Larsen over the pronunciation of his name. Johansen he thrashed on the amidships deck the other night, since which time the mate has called him by his proper name.
They drifted away with the wind and soon looked like two white spots on the almost black water. Nansen and Johansen wanted their meat, the more because the bears had torn and mangled all the walrus meat lying outside the hut. The kayaks were pushed out and were soon on the farther side of the floe with the bear cubs.
The next is Johansen; he is not bad, either, but does not equal the other's score. Then comes Bjaaland; I wonder whether he is as smart at this game as he is on ski? He places himself at the end of the table, like the others, but takes a giant's stride forward. He is a leery one, this; now he is not more than a yard and a half from the target. He throws well; the darts describe a great round arch.
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