What an evening!  The sun is high in the heavens in spite of the late hour.  Over all this mountainous land of ice, over the mighty Barrier running south, there lies a bright, white, shining light, so intense that it dazzles the eyes.  But northward lies the night.  Leaden grey upon the sea, it passes into deep blue as the eye is raised, and pales by degrees until it is swallowed up in the radiant gleam from the Barrier.  What lies behind the night —­ that smoke-black mass —­ we know.  That part we have explored, and have come off victorious.  But what does the dazzling day to the south conceal?  Inviting and attractive the fair one lies before us.  Yes, we hear you calling, and we shall come.  You shall have your kiss, if we pay for it with our lives.

The following day —­ Sunday —­ brought the same fine weather.  Of course, there could now be no thought of Sunday for us.  Not one of us would have cared to spend the day in idleness.  We were now divided into two parties:  the sea party and the land party.  The sea party —­ ten men —­ took over the Fram, while on this day the land party took up their abode on the Barrier for a year or two, or whatever it might be.  The sea party was composed of Nilsen, Gjertsen, Beck, Sundbeck, Ludvig Hansen, Kristensen, Ronne, Nodtvedt, Kutschin, and Olsen.  The land party consisted of Prestrud, Johansen, Helmer Hanssen, Hassel, Bjaaland, Stubberud, Lindstrom, and myself.  Lindstrom was to stay on board for a few days longer, as we still had to take most of our meals on the ship.  The plan was that one party, composed of six men, should camp in a sixteen-man tent in the space between Ronniken and Nelson, while another party of two were to live in a tent up at the but site and build the hut.  The two last were, of course, our capable carpenters, Bjaaland and Stubberud.

By eleven o’clock in the morning we were at last ready to start.  We had one sledge, eight dogs and provisions and equipment weighing altogether 660 pounds.  It was my team that was to open the ball.  The sea party had all collected on deck to witness the first start.  All was now ready; after countless efforts on our part, or, if it is preferred, after a thorough thrashing for every dog, we had at last got them in a line before the sledge in Alaska harness.  With a flourish and a crack of the whip we set off.  I glanced at the ship.  Yes; as I thought —­ all our comrades were standing in a row, admiring the fine start.  I am not quite sure that I did not hold my head rather high and look round with a certain air of triumph.  If I did so, it was foolish of me.  I ought to have waited; the defeat would have been easier to bear.  For defeat it was, and a signal one.  The dogs had spent half a year in lying about and eating and drinking, and had got the impression that they would never have anything else to do.  Not one of them appeared to understand that a new era of toil had begun.  After moving forward a few yards, they all sat down,