The next day, the 21st, brought very thick weather:  a strong breeze from the south-east, with thick driving snow.  It would not have been a day for crossing the trap if we had not found our old tracks.  It was true that we could not see them far, but we could still see the direction they took.  So as to be quite safe, I now set our course north-east by east —­ two points east was the original course.  And compared with our old tracks, this looked right, as the new course was considerably more easterly than the direction of the tracks.  One last glance over the camping-ground to see whether anything was forgotten, and then into the blizzard.  It was really vile weather, snowing from above and drifting from below, so that one was quite blinded.  We could not see far; very often we on the last sledge had difficulty in seeing the first.  Bjaaland was next in front of us.  For a long time we had been going markedly downhill, and this was not in accordance with our reckoning; but in that weather one could not make much of a reckoning.  We had several times passed over crevasses, but none of any size.  Suddenly we saw Bjaaland’s sledge sink over.  He jumped off and seized the trace.  The sledge lay on its side for a few seconds, then began to sink more and more, and finally disappeared altogether.  Bjaaland had got a good purchase in the snow, and the dogs lay down and dug their claws in.  The sledge sank more and more —­ all this happened in a few moments.

“Now I can’t hold it any longer.”  We —­ Wisting and I —­ had just come up.  He was holding on convulsively, and resisting with all his force, but it was no use —­ inch by inch the sledge sank deeper.  The dogs, too, seemed to understand the gravity of the situation; stretched out in the snow, they dug their claws in, and resisted with all their strength.  But still, inch by inch, slowly and surely, it went down into the abyss.  Bjaaland was right enough when he said he couldn’t hold on any longer.  A few seconds more, and his sledge and thirteen dogs would never have seen the light of day again.  Help came at the last moment.  Hanssen and Hassel, who were a little in advance when it happened, had snatched an Alpine rope from a sledge and came to his assistance.  They made the rope fast to the trace, and two of us —­ Bjaaland and I —­ were now able, by getting a good purchase, to hold the sledge suspended.  First the dogs were taken out; then Hassel’s sledge was drawn back and placed across the narrowest part of the crevasse, where we could see that the edges were solid.  Then by our combined efforts the sledge, which was dangling far below, was hoisted up as far as we could get it, and made fast to Hassel’s sledge by the dogs’ traces.  Now we could slack off and let go:  one sledge hung securely enough by the other.  We could breathe a little more freely.