The same course we had steered when coming in a year before could safely be taken in the opposite direction now we were going out.  The outlines of the bay had remained absolutely unchanged during the year that had elapsed.  Even the most projecting point of the wall on the west side of the bay, Cape Man’s Head, stood serenely in its old place, and it looked as if it was in no particular hurry to remove itself.  It will probably stay where it is for many a long day yet, for if any movement of the ice mass is taking place at the inner end of the bay, it is in any case very slight.  Only in one respect did the condition of things differ somewhat this year from the preceding.  Whereas in 1911 the greater part of the bay was free of sea-ice as early as January 14, in 1912 there was no opening until about fourteen days later.  The ice-sheet had stubbornly held on until the fresh north-easterly breeze, that appeared on the very day the southern party returned, had rapidly provided a channel of open water.  The breaking up of the ice could not possibly have taken place at a more convenient moment; the breeze in question saved us a great deal, both of time and trouble, as the way to the place where the Fram lay before the ice broke up was about five times as long as the distance we now had to go.  This difference of fourteen days in the time of the disappearance of the ice in two summers showed us how lucky we had been to choose that particular year —­ 1911 —­ for our landing here.  The work which we carried out in three weeks in 1911, thanks to the early breaking up of the ice, would certainly have taken us double the time in 1912, and would have caused us far more difficulty and trouble.

The thick fog that, as I have said, lay over the Bay of Whales when we left it, prevented us also from seeing what our friends the Japanese were doing.  The Kainan Maru had put to sea in company with the Fram during the gale of January 27, and since that time we had seen nothing of them.  Those members of the expedition who had been left behind in a tent on the edge of the Barrier to the north of Framheim had also been very retiring of late.  On the day we left the place, one of our own party had an interview with two of the foreigners.  Prestrud had gone to fetch the flag that had been set up on Cape Man’s Head as a signal to the Fram that all had returned.  By the side of the flag a tent had been put up, which was intended as a shelter for a lookout man, in case the Fram had been delayed.  When Prestrud came up, he was no doubt rather surprised to find himself face to face with two sons of Nippon, who were engaged in inspecting our tent and its contents, which, however, only consisted of a sleeping-bag and a Primus.  The Japanese had opened the conversation with enthusiastic phrases about “nice day” and “plenty ice”; when our man had expressed his absolute agreement on these indisputable facts, he tried to get information on matters of more special interest.