The reception we received will never be forgotten, not even when other things fill our thoughts. Our friends wept, they took hold of us, they looked at us with unbelieving glance--“But, Great God, is it you?” They simply did not realize that we had returned. But they explained how they had waited and waited, insisting that they had never given us up, while in their hearts they knew they had. And suddenly there we stood among them--the dead returned to life. No wonder that the reaction was great. Not one sensible word was said during the first half hour. There stood all our dear old friends: Captain Hagerup, Lieutenant Horgen, Zapffe, Ramm, Berge, etc. They looked so happy. And there were the dear fellows who had been sent to our relief: Captain Blom of the “Heimdal” and First Lieutenant F. Lutzow-Holm with the air fleet. [Illustration: ROALD AMUNDSEN AND LINCOLN ELLSWORTH AT THE RECEPTION BY THE KING OF NORWAY] The last to come down, not because he wished to be late, but because it took him a long time to traverse the road from the Director’s house, was our dear host, Stakkars Knutsen. He had run so fast that he had to stand for a time to regain his breath. It was a warm reunion. Among all who had missed us in that time there was scarcely anybody whom our absence had made more uneasy. Late and early, we were told, he had scanned the horizon looking for us. Never had we been out of his thoughts. Big, strong man as he was, he had the warmest and softest of hearts. No wonder then that the meeting with Knutsen was regarded as an outstandingly important incident. We had to be photographed from all sides, although a record would appear on the plate of a month’s whiskers and dirt. In an hour both would have vanished. And so we set off to our old King’s Bay quarters where we had passed unforgettable days before our departure. It was like a delightful dream to see it again. Every day as we had sat in our little mess on N 25 taking our humble meal, it was remarked on every side, “Oh! if only we were back at Knutsen’s.” And now we were there. We felt we wanted to pinch ourselves and ask, “Is this really possible? Can you really eat as many biscuits as you wish?” There was no time to shave and wash first. No! Berta had now taken command, and we should first and foremost have food. As we stepped into the room, cheering broke out. The Station welcomed us back, and never has our National Anthem sounded finer than it did as we stood in the little square room listening to the tones of what is our dearest hymn. I believe there was not one dry eye in the company. “Gud sygne dig landet vaart. Vi gir dig med glede alt.”