As I was leaving the telegraph-office the manager told me that my friend Professor Mohn was in the town, staying, he understood, at the hotel. Strange that Mohn, a man so intimately connected with the expedition, should be the first friend I was to meet! Even while we were handing in our telegrams the news of our arrival had begun to filter through the town, and people were gradually flocking together to see the two polar bears who strode through the streets to the hotel. I rushed in and inquired for Mohn. He was in his room, number so-and-so, they told me, but he was taking his siesta. I had no respect for siestas at that moment; I thundered at the door and tore it open. There lay Mohn on the sofa, reading, with a long pipe in his mouth. He started up and stared fixedly, like a madman, at the long figure standing on the threshold; his pipe fell to the ground, his face twitched, and then he burst out, "Can it be true? Is it Fridtjof Nansen?" I believe he was alarmed about himself, thinking he had seen an apparition; but when he heard my well-known voice the tears came to his eyes, and, crying, "Thank God, you're still alive!" he rushed into my arms. Then came Johansen's turn. It was a moment of wild rejoicing, and numberless were the questions asked and answered on both sides. As one thing after another came into our heads, the questions rained around without coherence and almost without meaning. The whole thing seemed so incredible that a long time passed before we even collected ourselves sufficiently to sit down, and I could tell him in a somewhat more connected fashion what experiences we had gone through during these three years. But where was the Fram? Had we left her? Where were the others? Was anything amiss? These questions poured forth with breathless anxiety, and it was no doubt the hardest thing of all to understand that there was nothing amiss, and yet that we had left our splendid ship. But little by little even that became comprehensible; and then all was rejoicing, and champagne and cigars presently appeared on the scene. Another acquaintance from the south was also in the hotel; he came in to speak to Mohn; but, seeing that he had visitors, was on the point of going again. Then he stopped, stared at us, discovered who the visitors were, and stood as though nailed to the spot; and then we all drank to the expedition and to Norway. It was clear that we must stop there that evening, and we sat the whole afternoon talking and talking without a pause. But meanwhile the whole town had learnt the names of its newly arrived guests, and when we looked out of the window the street was full of people, and from all the flagstaffs over the town, and from all the masts in the harbor, the Norwegian flag waved in the evening sunshine. And then came telegrams in torrents, all of them bringing good news. Now all our troubles were over. Only the arrival of the Fram was wanting to complete things; but we were