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In sight of Copenhagen the Hans Egede was received by marvelous demonstrations of enthusiasm. The water was crowded with craft of every size and type, from steam yachts to rowing boats, tugs to pinnaces, with flags aflutter. Cheers came in gusts, unceasingly. Sirens shrieked a wailing homage, whistles blew. Bands on pleasure steamers played “See the Conquering Hero Comes.”

Doctor Cook, the hero, was hiding in his cabin. He had to be almost dragged out by a tall and splendid Dane named Norman Hansen, poet and explorer, who afterward constituted himself Doctor Cook’s champion and declared himself my enemy, because of my accusations against this man.

Doctor Cook came out of his cabin with a livid look, almost green. I never saw guilt and fear more clearly written on any human face. He could hardly pull himself together when the Crown Prince of Denmark boarded his ship and offered the homage of Denmark to his glorious achievement.

But that was the only time in which I saw Cook lose his nerve.