The layer of snow which covered it over was in most cases quite thin.  In driving out into one of these snow-filled crevasses nothing happened as a rule; but it was in getting off on the other side that the critical moment arrived.  For here the dogs came up on to the smooth ice surface, and could get no hold for their claws, with the result that it was left entirely to the driver to haul the the sledge up.  The strong pull he then had to give sent him through the thin layer of snow.  Under these circumstances he took a good, firm hold of the sledge-lashing, or of a special strap that had been made with a view to these accidents.  But familiarity breeds contempt, even with the most cautious, and some of the drivers were often within an ace of going down into “the cellar.”

If this part of the journey was trying for the dogs, it was certainly no less so for the men.  If the weather had even been fine, so that we could have looked about us, we should not have minded it so much, but in this vile weather it was, indeed, no pleasure.  Our time was also a good deal taken up with thawing noses and cheeks as they froze —­ not that we stopped; we had no time for that.  We simply took off a mit, and laid the warm hand on the frozen spot as we went; when we thought we had restored sensation, we put the hand back into the mit.  By this time it would want warming.  One does not keep one’s hands bare for long with the thermometer several degrees below zero and a storm blowing.  In spite of the unfavourable conditions we had been working in, the sledge-meters that evening showed a distance of fifteen and a half miles.  We were well satisfied with the day’s work when we camped.

Let us cast a glance into the tent this evening.  It looks cosy enough.  The inner half of the tent is occupied by three sleeping-bags, whose respective owners have found it both comfortable and expedient to turn in, and may now be seen engaged with their diaries.  The outer half —­ that nearest the door —­ has only two sleeping-bags, but the rest of the space is taken up with the whole cooking apparatus of the expedition.  The owners of these two bags are still sitting up.  Hanssen is cook, and will not turn in until the food is ready and served.  Wisting is his sworn comrade and assistant, and is ready to lend him any aid that may be required.  Hanssen appears to be a careful cook; he evidently does not like to burn the food, and his spoon stirs the contents of the pot incessantly.  “Soup!” The effect of the word is instantaneous.  Everyone sits up at once with a cup in one hand and a spoon in the other.  Each one in his turn has his cup filled with what looks like the most tasty vegetable soup.  Scalding hot it is, as one can see by the faces, but for all that it disappears with surprising rapidity.  Again the cups are filled, this time with more solid stuff pemmican.  With praiseworthy despatch their contents are once more demolished, and they are filled for the third time.  There