We were back on the Barrier surface; a touch of the finger, and the trap-door swung over and fell noiselessly into its place. I could see that Hassel was capable of other things besides sawing birchwood. Outside lay his team, guarding all his movements — Mikkel, Raeven, Masmas, and Else. They all looked well. Now we were going to see the others.
We went over to the entrance of the hut and raised the trap-door; a dazzling light met my eyes. In the wall of the steps leading down from the surface a recess had been cut to hold a wooden case lined with bright tin; this contained a little lamp which produced this powerful light. But it was the surroundings that made it so bright — ice and snow everywhere. Now I could look about me for the first time; it had been dark when I came in the morning. There was the snow-tunnel leading to the pent-house; I could see that by the threshold that grinned at me. But there, in the opposite direction, what was there? I could see that the passage was continued, but where did it lead? Standing in the bright light, it looked quite dark in the tunnel.
“Now we will go and see Bjaaland first.” With these words my companion bent down, and set off through the dark passage. “Look there, in the snow-wall — just under our feet — can you see the light?” By degrees my eyes had accustomed themselves to the darkness of the tunnel, and I could see a greenish light shining through the snow-wall where he pointed. And now another noise fell on my ears — a monotonous sound — coming from below.
“Look out for the steps!” Yes, he could be sure of that; I had come one cropper that day, and it was enough. We once more descended into the Barrier by broad, solid snow-steps covered with boards. Suddenly a door was opened — a sliding-door in the snow-wall — and I stood in Bjaaland’s and Stubberud’s premises. The place might be about 6 feet high, 15 feet long, and 7 feet wide. On the floor lay masses of shavings,