to the north.  It may appear that my prudence was exaggerated, but it always seemed to me that one could not be too careful on this endless, uniform surface.  If we lost our way here, it would be difficult enough to reach home.  Besides which, the building of these beacons had other advantages, which we could all see and appreciate.  Every time we stopped to build one, the dogs had a rest, and they wanted this, if they were to keep up the pace.

We erected the first beacon in 80deg. 23’ S. To begin with, we contented ourselves with putting them up at every thirteenth or fifteenth kilometre.  On the 29th we shot the first dog, Hanssen’s Bone.  He was too old to keep up, and was only a hindrance.  He was placed in depot under a beacon, and was a great joy to us —­ or rather to the dogs —­ later on.

On the same day we reached the second important point —­ the depot in 81deg.  S. Our course took us very slightly to the east of it.  The small pieces of packing-case that had been used as marks on each side of the depot could be seen a long way off.  On a subsequent examination they showed no sign of snowfall; they stood just as they had been put in.  In the neighbourhood of the depot we crossed two quite respectable crevasses; they were apparently filled up, and caused us no trouble.  We reached the depot at 2 p.m.; everything was in the best of order.  The flag was flying, and hardly looked as if it had been up a day, although it had now been waving there for nearly eight months.  The drifts round the depot were about 1 1/2 feet high.

The next day was brilliant —­ calm and clear.  The sun really baked the skin of one’s face.  We put all our skin clothing out to dry; a little rime will always form at the bottom of a sleeping-bag.  We also availed ourselves of this good opportunity to determine our position and check our compasses; they proved to be correct.  We replaced the provisions we had consumed on the way, and resumed our journey on October 31.

There was a thick fog next morning, and very disagreeable weather; perhaps we felt it more after the previous fine day.  When we passed this way for the first time going south, Hanssen’s dogs had fallen into a crevasse, but it was nothing to speak of; otherwise we had no trouble.  Nor did we expect any this time; but in these regions what one least expects frequently happens.  The snow was loose and the going heavy; from time to time we crossed a narrow crevasse.  Once we saw through the fog a large open hole; we could not have been very far from it, or we should not have seen it, the weather was so thick.  But all went well till we had come thirteen and a half miles.  Then Hanssen had to cross a crevasse a yard wide, and in doing it he was unlucky enough to catch the point of his ski in the traces of the hindmost dogs, and fall right across the crevasse.  This looked unpleasant.  The dogs were across, and a foot or two on the other side, but the sledge was right over the crevasse, and had twisted as Hanssen