We came at a tearing pace down to the tent, where our companions had everything in most perfect order.  The dogs lay snoring in the heat of the sun, and hardly condescended to move when we came scudding in among them.  Inside the tent a regular tropical heat prevailed; the sun was shining directly on to the red cloth and warming it.  The Primus hummed and hissed, and the pemmican-pot bubbled and spurted.  We desired nothing better in the world than to get in, fling ourselves down, eat, and drink.  The news we brought was no trifling matter —­ the plateau to-morrow.  It sounded almost too good to be true; we had reckoned that it would take us ten days to get up, and now we should do it in four.  In this way we saved a great deal of dog food, as we should be able to slaughter the superfluous animals six days earlier than we had calculated.  It was quite a little feast that evening in the tent; not that we had any more to eat than usual —­ we could not allow ourselves that —­ but the thought of the fresh dog cutlets that awaited us when we got to the top made our mouths water.  In course of time we had so habituated ourselves to the idea of the approaching slaughter that this event did not appear to us so horrible as it would otherwise have done.  Judgment had already been pronounced, and the selection made of those who were worthy of prolonged life and those who were to be sacrificed.  This had been, I may add, a difficult problem to solve, so efficient were they all.

The rumblings continued all night, and one avalanche after another exposed parts of the mountain-sides that had been concealed from time immemorial.  The following day, November 20, we were up and away at the usual time, about 8 a.m.  The weather was splendid, calm and clear.  Getting up over the saddle was a rough beginning of the day for our dogs, and they gave a good account of themselves, pulling the sledges up with single teams this time.  The going was heavy, as on the preceding day, and our advance through the loose snow was not rapid.  We did not follow our tracks of the day before, but laid our course directly for the place where we had decided to attempt the ascent.  As we approached Mount Ole Engelstad, under which we had to pass in order to come into the arm of the glacier between it and Mount Nansen, our excitement began to rise.  What does the end look like?  Does the glacier go smoothly on into the plateau, or is it broken up and impassable?  We rounded Mount Engelstad more and more; wider and wider grew the opening.  The surface looked extremely good as it gradually came into view, and it did not seem as though our assumption of the previous day would be put to shame.  At last the whole landscape opened out, and without obstruction of any kind whatever the last part of the ascent lay before us.  It was both long and steep from the look of it, and we agreed to take a little rest before beginning the final attack.