Though there were no Norsemen, there were many traces of them, the most interesting being the house of Eric the Red, near Igaliko. Here, close to Erik's Fiord and overlooking Einar's Fiord, on one of the prettiest sites in Greenland, was Brattelid—"the steep side of a rock"—one side of it a natural cliff, the walls of the other sides, more than four feet thick, built of blocks of red sandstone from four to six feet in length as well as in breadth and thickness, reminding the visitor of those of Stonehenge, and evoking similar wonderment as to how they were got into place. And in his first colony, now called Igdluernerit, Egede seems to have followed the Norsemen—at an interval—in their architecture, to judge by the large stones in the walls of his house, which, like Eric's, is now in ruins. Twelve years after Egede, came the Moravians to take up their quarters at Ny Herrnhut, also at the mouth of Godthaab (that is, Good Hope) Fiord. It was here that Nansen and Sverdrup landed in October, 1888, having rowed up from Ameralik Fiord in their "half a boat," as the Eskimos called it. "Are you Englishmen?" they were asked. "No," said Nansen, in good Norse, "we are Norwegians." "May I ask your name?" "My name is Nansen and we have just come from the interior." "Oh, allow me to congratulate you on taking your doctor's degree!" From which it is clear that Godthaab is not so much out of the world as one would suppose. Nansen with his three Norsemen and two Lapps had reached the east coast in the _Jason_, and on the 17th of July had left the ship in their boats to make their way to the shore; but they had been caught in the floes, and on them and among them they had drifted for twelve days—an experience they had not bargained for. Getting ashore at last near Cape Tordenskiold, they worked their way back northwards along the coast, spending a short time at an Eskimo encampment at Cape Bille, until on the 15th of August they hauled their two boats up near Umivik and started to cross Greenland over the inland ice. The country is now in its glacial period, and for days they toiled across its glacial desert; each day alike in its wearisome monotony. "Flatness and whiteness were the two features of this ocean of snow," says Nansen; "in the day we could see three things only, the sun, the snowfield and ourselves. We looked like a diminutive black line feebly traced upon an infinite expanse of white. There was no break or change in our horizon, no object to rest the eye upon, and no point by which to direct the course. We had to steer by a diligent use of the compass, and keep our line as well as possible by careful watching of the sun and repeated glances back at the four men following and the long track which the caravan left in the snow. We passed from one horizon to another, but our advance brought us no change."