It was 11 a.m. when we reached our destination.  While some of us were putting up the tent, others began to get everything ready for the coming observations.  A solid snow pedestal was put up, on which the artificial horizon was to be placed, and a smaller one to rest the sextant on when it was not in use.  At 11.30 a.m. the first observation was taken.  We divided ourselves into two parties —­ Hanssen and I in one, Hassel and Wisting in the other.  While one party slept, the other took the observations, and the watches were of six hours each.  The weather was altogether grand, though the sky was not perfectly bright the whole time.  A very light, fine, vaporous curtain would spread across the sky from time to time, and then quickly disappear again.  This film of cloud was not thick enough to hide the sun, which we could see the whole time, but the atmosphere seemed to be disturbed.  The effect of this was that the sun appeared not to change its altitude for several hours, until it suddenly made a jump.

Observations were now taken every hour through the whole twenty-four.  It was very strange to turn in at 6 p.m., and then on turning out again at midnight to find the sun apparently still at the same altitude, and then once more at 6 a.m. to see it still no higher.  The altitude had changed, of course, but so slightly that it was imperceptible with the naked eye.  To us it appeared as though the sun made the circuit of the heavens at exactly the same altitude.  The times of day that I have given here are calculated according to the meridian of Framheim; we continued to reckon our time from this.  The observations soon told us that we were not on the absolute Pole, but as close to it as we could hope to get with our instruments.  The observations, which have been submitted to Mr. Anton Alexander, will be published, and the result given later in this book.

On December 17 at noon we had completed our observations, and it is certain that we had done all that could be done.  In order if possible to come a few inches nearer to the actual Pole, Hanssen and Bjaaland went out four geographical miles (seven kilometres) in the direction of the newly found meridian.

Bjaaland astonished me at dinner that day.  Speeches had not hitherto been a feature of this journey, but now Bjaaland evidently thought the time had come, and surprised us all with a really fine oration.  My amazement reached its culmination when, at the conclusion of his speech, he produced a cigar-case full of cigars and offered it round.  A cigar at the Pole!  What do you say to that?  But it did not end there.  When the cigars had gone round, there were still four left.  I was quite touched when he handed the case and cigars to me with the words:  “Keep this to remind you of the Pole.”  I have taken good care of the case, and shall preserve it as one of the many happy signs of my comrades’ devotion on this journey.  The cigars I shared out afterwards, on Christmas Eve, and they gave us a visible mark of that occasion.