Chapter¹ 6 A Bad Start

On August 23rd，the Norwegians'sledges² were ready．They took them outside，and the dogs pulled them across me ice．The sun came up for half an hour，but it was too cold：－46°Centigrade．They could not travel in that weather．They went back to Framheim and waited．

They waited two weeks，until September 8th．Then，with the temperature at－37°Centigrade，they started．They ran happily across the snow to the south—eight men，seven sledges，and eighty-six dogs．Only

Lindstrom，the cook，stayed behind in Framheim．

At first everything went well．They went twenty-eight kilo-metres on Saturday，and twenty-eight kilometres on Sunday．It was easy．Then，on Monday，the temperature went down—to －56°Centigrade．There was white fog³ in front of their faces．They couldn't see anything．But they travelled twenty-eight kilometres．

That night，in their tents，they nearly died of cold．Next day，they stopped and made snow houses．Inside the snow houses，it was warm．But everyone was unhappy．

'I told you，Roald！'Johansen said．'Even September is too early！We can't travel in this cold．Do you want us to die？ Let's go back and wait for better weather．'

Amundsen was very angry．He was angry with Johansen，buthe was angry with himself，too．He knew Johansen was right．

'All right，'he said slowly．'We can go on to the depot⁴ at 80°South，leave the food there，and then go back．We can't do more than that．'

It was thirty-seven kilometres to the depot．The wind was in their faces all day．Two dogs died on the way．At the depot，they did not stop．They put out the food and the flags，turned round，and went north．

At last the wind was behind them．The dogs ran quickly，and the men sat on the empty sledges．They went faster and faster．It was like a race．Amundsen was on Wisting's sledge，and soon he，Wisting，and Hanssen were three or four kilometres in front．Soon they were alone．They travelled seventy-five kilo-metres in nine hours，and they reached Framheim at four o'clock that afternoon．

Bjaaland arrived two hours later，with two more men．But the last two—Johansen and Prestrud—went more slowly．Their dogs were tired，their feet were wet and cold，they had no food，and they were alone in the dark．The temperature was－51°Centigrade．They reached Framheim at midnight．

Next morning，Johansen was angry．In front of everyone，he said：'You were wrong，Roald．September was too early．I told you but you didn't listen．And then you left us alone and we nearly died in the cold！You're a bad captain—I'm a better captain than you are！'

Amundsen was very angry．But at first he said nothing，be-cause he knew that Johansen was right．Then，that evening，he gave a letter to Johansen．It said：

You aren't coming to the Pole⁶ with me．When I go south，you can take some dogs and go east to King Edward Ⅶ Land．You can go with Prestrud and Stubberud．You can be the first men to go there—but not to the South Pole！

The Norwegians stayed in Framheim and waited．They lay in bed，listened to the wind outside，and thought about Scott and his motor⁷ sledges．

6 出师不利

8月23日，挪威人的雪橇准备就绪。他们将雪橇搬到户外，狗拉着雪橇穿行在冰封的大地上。太阳已升起半小时，但是气候仍旧很冷：－46℃。他们不可能在这种天气上路，只好返回弗雷门海姆，等待着。

他们又等了两个星期，直至9月8日。他们冒着－37℃的低温，出发了。他们愉快地向南奔去，穿行在雪原之中。这一行共有8个人、7辆雪橇、86条狗。留在身后的只有厨师林德斯特伦，他留守在弗雷门海姆营地。

起初一切顺利。星期六他们走了28公里，星期天又走了28公里。事情并不难。然而在星期一，温度降到－56℃。眼前是一片白茫茫的浓雾，他们啥也看不到。即使如此，他们还是前进了28公里。

那天晚上，他们几乎冻死在帐篷里。第二天，他们停了下来，修筑雪屋。尽管雪屋内暖融融的，但是众人的心都很沉重。

“我给你讲过，罗阿尔！”约翰森说，“即使9月份也为时过早！在这种寒冷的天气下，我们不可能前行。你要我们死吗？咱们回去吧，等气候变好些再走。”

阿蒙森恼怒至极。他不仅恼恨约翰森，而且还恼恨自己。他心中明白，约翰森是对的。

“好吧，”他缓缓地说，“我们可以继续前行，到南纬80°的贮藏屋去，把食物留在那儿后，再折回。我们只能做这些事了。”

离贮藏屋有37公里。寒风扑面，整日不歇，有两条狗死在半路了。到达贮藏屋时，他们没有任何停顿，拿出食物与旗帜后，马上向北调头了。

他们终于将寒风抛在身后。群狗飞快地跑，众人坐在空雪橇上往回赶。它们速度越来越快，就像进行比赛。阿蒙森坐在威斯丁的雪橇上。很快地，他、威斯丁、汉森就领先了三四公里。再一会儿后，他们已经独领风骚了。9小时内，他们跑了75公里。他们到达弗雷门海姆时，是那天下午4点钟。

两小时后，比阿兰德与另外两个人赶了回来。最后两人约翰森与普雷斯楚德速度更慢。他们的狗非常疲倦。两个人的脚又湿又冷。他们的食品也光了，孤独地行进在黑暗之中。当时的气温降到－51℃。他们赶回弗雷门海姆时已经是半夜了。

次日早晨，约翰森大发其火。他当着众人说：“你错了，罗阿尔。9月份太早了。我早告诉过你，可是你听不进去。后来，你又扔下我们，搞得我们孤立无援，几乎冻死在这冰天雪地之中。你是个坏队长，让我当队长也比你强。”

阿蒙森愤怒至极。但起先一言不发，因为他知道约翰森骂得有理。后来，在那天晚上，他递给约翰森一封信。信中这样写：

你不必随我去南极了。在我出发南行之时，你可以带几条狗向东，赶到爱德华七世地。普雷斯楚德与斯塔伯鲁德也可以随你同去。你们可能成为首批到那儿的人——但不是南极！

这些挪威人留在弗雷门海姆，等待着。他们躺在床上，听着屋外的寒风，想着斯科特，想着他的机动雪橇。