I come now to our provisions. There are many people who do not know what pemmican is, so I shall tell them about it shortly here. Pemmican is _not_ a bird, as several people have asked me, nor has it anything to do with a pelican. The preparation of it is as follows: Beef is dried in the lowest possible temperature in such a manner that it shall not lose its tastiness. It is then ground to powder. This powder is mixed with dried pulverized vegetables. The whole is mixed together in melted fat, filled into molds and allowed to set. That this is nutritious fare is shown by the fact that five kilograms of beef make only one kilogram of beef powder. Our pemmican was a gift from the Danish Wine and Conserves Factory. It was analyzed by Professor Torup and was found to be in excellent condition. By cooking it with water, the pemmican will make either soup or a kind of porridge, or something between the two like gruel. Eighty grams of pemmican per man made a most delicious cup of soup. In the ice regions pemmican tastes equally good in its uncooked state. The little extra ration of forty grams which we got during the last days for the evening meal we ate like bread with our cup of chocolate. The Freia Chocolate Factory made our chocolate according to a special recipe and presented us with it. We were, however, unable to follow the factory’s directions, which, inscribed upon the packet, informed us that we should use 125 grams (one tablet) to half a liter of water. We used a third part of a tablet to 400 grams of water, and it seemed to us most excellent chocolate. As we later had to reduce our bread ration from five oatcakes, we balanced it by adding Molico dried milk to the chocolate (a gift from the Norwegian Milk Factories). Even now as I write I see again the scene which was enacted each morning. We came creeping out of our sleeping bags, tumbled to our places in the mess, then sat and shuddered in our clothes as though to dispel the cold, while we rubbed our hands together. The Primus stoves’ kindly glow was warm and pleasant; we bent nearer to them, anxiously looking into the chocolate pan to see if it would not soon begin to bubble and steam. Soon it would bubble up in the middle, and a delightful steam rising from the little pan, came streaming out into the tiny room and enveloped us. We closed the trap doors to keep the warmth in the mess. The three small breakfast biscuits were passed round to each man; the cups were filled and sent after them; six pairs of hands clasped themselves involuntarily round the six cups. (I can still feel the warmth circulating from my hands up into my arms.) Faces were bent over the cups to be warmed by the rising steam, while hungry mouths cautiously and gratefully drank in the chocolate, which heated the body as it glided downwards. After this we started to talk.