There was rejoicing in our little band when we arrived and saw that what we had considered the most important point of our homeward journey had been reached.  It was not so much for the sake of the food it contained that we considered it so necessary to find this spot, as for discovering the way down to the Barrier again.  And now that we stood there, we recognized this necessity more than ever.  For although we now knew, from our bearings, exactly where the descent lay, we could see nothing of it at all.  The plateau there seemed to go right up to the mountain, without any opening towards the lower ground beyond; and yet the compass told us that such an opening must exist, and would take us down.  The mountain, on which we had thus walked all day on the outward journey, without knowing anything of it, was Mount Fridtjof Nansen.  Yes, the difference in the light made a surprising alteration in the appearance of things.

The first thing we did on reaching the depot was to take out the dogs’ carcasses that lay there and cut them into big lumps, that were divided among the dogs.  They looked rather surprised; they had not been accustomed to such rations.  We threw three carcasses on to the sledges, so as to have a little extra food for them on the way down.  The Butcher’s was not a very friendly spot this time, either.  True, it was not the same awful weather as on our first visit, but it was blowing a fresh breeze with a temperature of -9.4deg.  F., which, after the heat of the last few days, seemed to go to one’s marrow, and did not invite us to stay longer than was absolutely necessary.  Therefore, as soon as we had finished feeding the dogs and putting our sledges in order, we set out.

Although the ground had not given us the impression of sloping, we soon found out that it did so when we got under way.  It was not only downhill, but the pace became so great that we had to stop and put brakes under the sledges.  As we advanced, the apparently unbroken wall opened more and more, and showed us at last our old familiar ascent.  There lay Mount Ole Engelstad, snowclad and cold, as we saw it the first time.  As we rounded it we came on to the severe, steep slope, where, on the way south, I had so much admired the work done by my companions and the dogs that day.  But now I had an even better opportunity of seeing how steep this ascent really had been.  Many were the brakes we had to put on before we could reduce the speed to a moderate pace, but even so we came down rapidly, and soon the first part of the descent lay behind us.  So as not to be exposed to possible gusts from the plain, we went round Mount Engelstad and camped under the lee of it, well content with the day’s work.  The snow lay here as on our first visit, deep and loose, and it was difficult to find anything like a good place for the tent.  We could soon feel that we had descended a couple of thousand feet and come down among the mountains.  It was still, absolutely still, and the sun broiled us as on a day of high summer at home.  I thought, too, that I could notice a difference in my breathing; it seemed to work much more easily and pleasantly —­ perhaps it was only imagination.