with lengths of thin rope, and this took time; but when properly done, as it was now, the cases were held as though in a vice, and could not move.  The zinc plates we had had under the sledges to keep them up in loose snow had been taken off; we could not see that we should have any use for them.  In their place we had lashed a spare ski under each sledge, and these were very useful later.  By August 22 all the sledges were ready, waiting to be driven away.

The dogs did not like the cold weather we had now had for so long; when the temperature went down between -58deg. and -75deg.  F., one could see by their movements that they felt it.  They stood still and raised their feet from the ground in turn, holding each foot up for a while before putting it down again on the cold surface.  They were cunning and resourceful in the extreme.  They did not care very much for fish, and some of them were difficult to get into the tents on the evenings when they knew there was fish.  Stubberud, especially, had a great deal of trouble with one of the young dogs —­ Funcho was his name.  He was born at Madeira during our stay there in September, 1910.  On meat evenings each man, after fastening up his dogs, went, as has been described, up to the wall of the meat-tent and took his box of chopped-up meat, which was put out there.  Funcho used to watch for this moment.  When he saw Stubberud take the box, he knew there was meat, and then he came quietly into the tent, as though there was nothing the matter.  If, on the other hand, Stubberud showed no sign of fetching the box, the dog would not come, nor was it possible to get hold of him.  This happened a few times, but then Stubberud hit upon a stratagem.  When Funcho, as usual —­ even on a fish evening —­ watched the scene of chaining up the other dogs from a distance, Stubberud went calmly up to the wall, took the empty box that lay there, put it on his shoulder, and returned to the tent.  Funcho was taken in.  He hurried joyfully into the tent, delighted, no doubt, with Stubberud’s generosity in providing meat two evenings running.  But there, to his great surprise, a very different reception awaited him from that he expected.  He was seized by the neck and made fast for the night.  After an ugly scowl at the empty box, he looked at Stubberud; what he thought, I am not sure.  Certain it is that the ruse was not often successful after that.  Funcho got a dried fish for supper, and had to be content with it.

We did not lose many dogs in the course of the winter.  Two —­ Jeppe and Jakob —­ died of some disease or other.  Knaegten was shot, as he lost almost all his hair over half his body.  Madeiro, born at Madeira, disappeared early in the autumn; Tom disappeared later —­ both these undoubtedly fell into crevasses.  We had a very good opportunity —­ twice —­ of seeing how this might happen; both times we saw the dog disappear into the crevasse, and could watch him from the surface.  He went quite quietly backwards