On January 17 the carpenters began to dig the foundations of the house.  The effect of all we had heard about the Antarctic storms was that we decided to take every possible precaution to make the house stand on an even keel.  The carpenters therefore began by digging a foundation 4 feet down into the Barrier.  This was not easy work; 2 feet below the surface they came upon hard, smooth ice, and had to use pickaxes.  The same day a stiff easterly breeze sprang up, whirling the snow high into the air, and filling up the foundations as fast as the men dug them.  But it would take more than that to stop those fellows in their work.  They built a wind-screen of planks, and did it so well that they were able to work all day, unhindered by drifts, until, when evening came, they had the whole foundation dug out.  There is no difficulty in doing good work when one has such people to work for one.  The stormy weather interfered somewhat with our sledging, and as we found our Alaska harness unsuitable to the conditions, we went on board and began the preparation of Greenland harness for our dogs.  All hands worked at it.  Our excellent sailmaker, Ronne, sewed forty-six sets of harness in the course of the month.  The rest of us spliced the ropes and made the necessary tackles, while others spliced wire-rope shafts to our sledges.  When evening came we had an entirely new set of tackle for all our sledges and dogs.  This was very successful, and in a few days the whole was working smoothly.

We had now divided ourselves between the two tents, so that five men slept in the lower tent, while the two carpenters and I inhabited the upper one.  That evening a rather amusing thing happened to us.  We were just turning in when suddenly we heard a penguin’s cry immediately outside the tent.  We were out in a moment.  There, a few yards from the door, sat a big Emperor penguin, making bow after bow.  It gave exactly the impression of having come up simply to pay us its respects.  We were sorry to repay its attention so poorly, but such is the way of the world.  With a final bow it ended its days in the frying-pan.

On January 18 we began bringing up the materials for the hut, and as soon as they arrived the builders began to put them up.  It is no exaggeration to say that everything went like a well-oiled machine.  One sledge after another drove up to the site and discharged its load.  The dogs worked splendidly, and their drivers no less, and as fast as the materials arrived our future home rose into the air.  All the parts had been marked before leaving Norway, and were now discharged from the ship in the order in which they were wanted.  Besides which, Stubberud himself had built the house, so that he knew every peg of it.  It is with gladness and pride that I look back upon those days.  With gladness, because no discord was ever heard in the course of this fairly severe labour; with pride, because I was at the head of such a body of men.  For men they were, in the true sense of the word.  Everyone knew his duty, and did it.