Another very important reason for using the dog is that this small creature can much more easily cross the numerous slight snow-bridges that are not to be avoided on the Barrier and on the glaciers.  If a dog falls into a crevasse there is no great harm done; a tug at his harness and he is out again; but it is another matter with a pony.  This comparatively large and heavy animal of course falls through far more easily, and if this happens, it is a long and stiff job to get the beast hauled up again —­ unless, indeed, the traces have broken and the pony lies at the bottom of a crevasse 1,000 feet deep.

And then there is the obvious advantage that dog can be fed on dog.  One can reduce one’s pack little by little, slaughtering the feebler ones and feeding the chosen with them.  In this way they get fresh meat.  Our dogs lived on dog’s flesh and pemmican the whole way, and this enabled them to do splendid work.

And if we ourselves wanted a piece of fresh meat we could cut off a delicate little fillet; it tasted to us as good as the best beef.  The dogs do not object at all; as long as they get their share they do not mind what part of their comrade’s carcass it comes from.  All that was left after one of these canine meals was the teeth of the victim —­ and if it had been a really hard day, these also disappeared.

If we take a step farther, from the Barrier to the plateau, it would seem that every doubt of the dog’s superiority must disappear.  Not only can one get the dogs up over the huge glaciers that lead to the plateau, but one can make full use of them the whole way.  Ponies, on the other hand, have to be left at the foot of the glacier, while the men themselves have the doubtful pleasure of acting as ponies.  As I understand Shackleton’s account, there can be no question of hauling the ponies over the steep and crevassed glaciers.  It must be rather hard to have to abandon one’s motive power voluntarily when only a quarter of the distance has been covered.  I for my part prefer to use it all the way.

From the very beginning I saw that the first part of our expedition, from Norway to the Barrier, would be the most dangerous section.  If we could only reach the Barrier with our dogs safe and well, the future would be bright enough.  Fortunately all my comrades took the same view of the matter, and with their cooperation we succeeded not only in bringing the dogs safely to our field of operations, but in landing them in far better condition than when we received them.  Their number was also considerably increased on the way, which seems to be another proof of a flourishing state of things.  To protect them against damp and heat we laid a loose deck of planed boards about 3 inches above the fixed deck, an arrangement by which all the rain and spray ran underneath the dogs.  In this way we kept them out of the water, which must always be running from side to side on the deck of a deep-laden vessel on her way to the