humanities corner anyway. Once again, the World Adventurous Club convenes. Intrepid men who have brave danger in the four corners of the earth meet periodically in this club room and relate their thrilling experiences in strange lands. The World Adventurous Club invites you to listen in on another unusual tale of courage and friendship. Come, come, come With the sharpensong cart, we march along We're all a jolly happy extraordinary Christ for our phonies, we're a merry float A merry, merry crowd are we Our voices ringing to skies above Now we are singing, singing to maidens whom we love Oh lovely maidens, hear ye our song With true love lay there as we march, we march along Oh come, oh come, oh come in the shouting song Oh join us, join us, now we march along We are a jolly, happy-go-lucky throng A merry crowd are we Oh a merry crowd are we Oh come, oh come, oh come in the shouting song Oh join us, join us, now we march along We are a jolly, happy-go-lucky throng A merry crowd are we There, there he goes. Hello. That looks like Ludwig Sporrensen over there, the Norwegian-American engineer who dragged a companion over miles of broken ice and snow. Norfolk, listen. Hi, Sorensen. Come here a minute. Well, Johnson. This is certainly a pleasure to see you again. And you likewise, Sporrensen. Here. Meet some of the boys. This is Smith. Glad to know you. Blunt. And Rice. This is a pleasure. Yeah, we've heard a lot about you. Swarrensen. Swarrensen, what's this we were reading about your being a hero out there in the frozen north? We want that story. Well, very nice of you. All right. But when I'm finished, you'll undoubtedly think me a crazy fool instead of a hero. As you know, there are practically no roads up in the North Skjofjell. I was sent out by the Norwegian government to look over the country and see if I thought it possible to get a short rail line through that would put the North Coast Fisherman's products out to a quick market. I've heard there's mighty good fishing up there around the northern fjord. Yes, you're quite right. Well, I met a man at college named Olaf Madsen, and I took him along as general handyman because he could speak Norse. He and I got to be great pals, too. A swell fellow. Yeah, it was his life you saved, wasn't it? Well, he thinks so. We were about two-thirds through with the survey when I realized the old Ustadall glacier was in the way of success. Still, I hated to give it up. The rest of the boys in camp were getting uneasy. It was at this point that Olaf came to me. We might as well break camp, boss, before we get caught in this storm. Supplies are running low, and the men are all ready to go back. By gosh, Olaf, I hate like the devil to give up now. I tell you what. If the rest of the men return home, there'll be enough supplies to last you and me another two weeks. I want to give that pass the once over. It's the last hope for a rail line. All right, boss. I'll stay with you till my toes and ears are frozen, if you say so. Good boy, Olaf. I'll let the men take all the reindeer and sledges, but we'll keep the dog team. Yeah, that's right. The dogs can take us so quicker if we run into a storm. I'll tell them they can go. Right, Olaf. All right, men, you can go now. Goodbye and good luck to you. Hooray! Oh, the bandum rolls, good luck to the doctor, far away. Far away, far away, far away, far away, far away, far away. Olaf, what's that song the men are singing? Oh, you mean Norway's Luck on a White Star Bucket? Why, that's about an old Norse legend. There was a battle once. Someone was fighting the Norsemen. The leader was a young and handsome Viking named Olaf. My mother named me after him, I guess. He was killed in the battle, and his men were running back when out comes his sweetheart on a milk white store buck, riding to the front, calling to the men to follow her. Oh, sort of a Norse Jeanne d'Arc, eh? Yeah, something like that. Well, they wailed a tar out of the enemy, but the girl vanished afterwards, white reindeer and all, and they couldn't find her nor Olaf's body neither. Some of the men thought she'd picked him up and carried him off on her white store buck, straight to Valhalla, I guess. So they made a song about it, eh? It's a pretty yarn, all right? Yes, and my mother believes it. She says that every time anyone tries to do something for his country and gets into trouble, this lady on her white store buck comes a-riding, riding, riding. They call it Norway's Luck. Well, Olaf, let's leave the dogs here while we make that climb and see if it will be possible to deflect the glacier. We'd better hurry, too. The sky looks threatening. Boss, boss, every darn dog is gone. So is the sled and all supplies. Olaf, you can't mean that. You're joking. It's too darn real to be a joke. I've looked all around. Some renegades swiped the whole outfit while we were gone. Oh, fine, miss. What can we do? We're out here afoot on the north of the alley, and the storm is getting worse. If we get back at all, we've got to go darn quick. It's a long way to Bergen, or any of the villages this side of there. Yes, you're right, Olaf. What will we carry? Not much, but a blanket of peace. And remember, we have more than two hours of real daylight, unless the aurora helps us. Right. Ready, Olaf? Ready, boss. If anything happens to you, I'll be to blame. Oh, forget it, boss. This wind and snow almost blinds one. We'll make it. We have to make it. Skull, skull of the Phantom Troll. Good luck, good luck to Norway. And to save your breath, Olaf. Pray to your Norse lady luck if you want to, but don't waste breath on it. You know, boss, that legend may seem strange to you, but Norse people actually believe in it. In fact, my mother says she saw the gold-headed gal herself on the white store book when she was young. Olaf, how many miles do we have to go? All of 10 miles from here, boss. Olaf, I believe we're off the trail. I've been thinking so, too. Got your compass? Yeah. You've got your flashlight? Sure. Here, let's see. Yes, we're off. 45 degrees. Oh, lady luck on your white store book. Come riding, riding. God, the snow almost smothers one. I'm soaking wet with sweat under these clothes, in spite of the cold. Oh! Olaf, Olaf! What's the matter? Oh, I caught my foot and fell sideways. I guess the old ankle's done for, boss. Olaf, Olaf, old boy. Here, let me look at it. Oh! Yes, lad. I'm afraid it's broken. I'll, I'll carry you if I can. No, you don't. Get on. I'm done. What do you take me for? Here, boy. Take a nip of this whiskey. Here's the flask. Oh, thanks, boss. Ah. Better take one yourself. Right. Now, now I may have to hurt you a little getting on my back, old man. Oh, no, boss. Let me lie here and you go on. Freezing will stop the pain. Put me down, you fool. We, we go together. Wherever. We're going. Lady Luck, Lady Luck. Help us. Help us, Lady Luck. Oh. Oh. Oh. Well, well, this is, this is the end of the trail for us, old man. Forgive me. I can't go any further. Nothing to forgive, boss. My ankle's getting better. Getting warm. Good night, boss. Norway's Luck White Stor-Buck. Oh, oh. That's right, old man. Go to sleep. Good night. Boss. The light. Wake up, boss. The rescue. Eh? What? Where? What? Bells. Help. Help. This way. Help. Look, boss. The light. The light. What is it? Oh. Olaf, we're dying. We're dreaming. It's a woman on a white stor-buck with hair like yellow flame flying behind her. That's the light. She's here, Olaf. Olaf. Olaf. Oh, God. He's, he's faded. Never mind. Lift him up to me. He's, he's too heavy. No brave man is too heavy a burden for me to lift. There, he's up before me. Mount he behind. Haste, haste. Now we go. Ludwig Sporenzen, you have come across the sea to help my fatherland. You may not know it, I leave you here. See on the cottage, a light is there. From this point on, you can carry your friend. Farewell. Well, the next thing I knew, gentlemen, Olaf and I were both in a warm bed in a cottage being worked over. I wasn't frozen badly at all. In fact, I was all right in the morning. Olaf was also, well, all but the ankle. So give me a light, someone. Here. How far was the cottage from the place Olaf got his fall? 11 miles. Gad, you must be a regular Hercules. That's what Olaf says. Well, you don't believe that was anything but an hallucination from the cold and weariness, do you? Oh, the whiskey, that's it. But listen to this. When I was able to get about the next morning, I went out and walked back on the trail I had dragged Olaf's body over. The heavy trail in the snow started from a bunch of scrub pines. It didn't go any further back. And believe it or not, gentlemen, up to that point where the heavy trail began, there were reindeer tracks only in the snow. Tracks leading just one way, coming in. And they stopped right where I started dragging Olaf. Now, you'll probably think me crazy, just as I warned you beforehand. But if you ever encounter Olaf Metsen, ask him. Well, that's a remarkable story. A strange adventure, I'll say. That reminds me of an experience I had. All right, old man, it's your turn next. Here, land of old, our hearts to thee are whole. By the young love, by each familiar scene. Thy mountains guard the fields of grain of gold. Thy rivers flow through meadows of green. And now we take leave of the World Adventurers Club. Everyone is welcome to listen in on the thrilling and remarkable adventures experienced by these courageous men. The End