20. Volume 1 Chapter 9 The End of the Winter, Part 2 On August 16 we began to pack our sledges. Two were placed in the crystal palace and two in the clothing store. It was a great advantage to be able to do this work on the cover. At this time the temperature was dancing a can-can between minus 58 degrees and minus 75 degrees Fahrenheit with an occasional refreshing breeze of 13 or 14 miles an hour. It would have been almost an impossibility to pack the sledges out of doors under these conditions if it was to be done carefully and firmly, and of course it had to be so done. Our fixed wire-rope lashings had to be laced together with lengths of thin rope, and this took time, but when properly done as it was now the cases were held as though in a vice and could not move. The zinc plates we had had under the sledges to keep them up in loose snow had been taken off. We could not see that we should have any use for them. In their place we had lashed a spare ski under each sledge, and these were very useful later. By August 22 all the sledges were ready, waiting to be driven away. The dogs did not like the cold weather we had now had for so long. When the temperature went down between minus 58 degrees and minus 75 degrees Fahrenheit one could see by their movements that they felt it. They stood still and raised their feet from the ground in turn holding each foot up for a while before putting it down again on the cold surface. They were cunning and resourceful in the extreme. They did not care very much for fish, and some of them were difficult to get into the tents on the evenings when they knew there was fish. Stubbeut, especially, had a great deal of trouble with one of the young dogs. Funcho was his name. He was born at Madeira during our stay there in September 1910. On meat evenings each man, after fastening up his dogs, went, as has been described, up to the wall of the meat tent, and took his box of chopped up meat which was put out there. Funcho used to watch for this moment. When he saw Stubbeut take the box he knew there was meat and then he came quietly into the tent as though there was nothing to matter. If on the other hand Stubbeut showed no signs of fetching the box the dog would not come, nor was it possible to get hold of him. This happened a few times, but then Stubbeut hit upon a strategy. When Funcho, as usual, even on a fish evening, watched a scene of chaining up the other dogs from a distance, Stubbeut went calmly up to the wall, took the empty box that lay there, put it on his shoulder, and returned to the tent. Funcho was taken in. He hurried joyfully into the tent, delighted no doubt with Stubbeut's generosity and providing meat two evenings running. But there, to his great surprise, a very different reception awaited him from that he expected. He was seized by the neck and made fast for the night. After an ugly scowl at the empty box he looked at Stubbeut, what he thought I am not sure. Certain it is that the ruse was not often successful after that. Funcho got a dried fish for supper, and had to be content with it. We did not lose many dogs in the course of the winter. Two, Jeper and Jacob died of some disease or other. Knachten was shot as he lost almost all his hair over Harvest body. Madeiro, born at Madeira, disappeared early in the autumn. Tom disappeared later. Both these undoubtedly fell into crevasses. We had a very good opportunity, twice, of seeing how this might happen. Both times we saw the dog disappear into the crevasse, and could watch him from the surface. He went quite quietly, backwards and forwards down below, without uttering a sound. These crevasses were not deep, but they were steep-sided so that the dog could not get out without help. The two dogs I have mentioned undoubtedly met their death in this way.  It happened several times that dogs disappeared, were absent for some days, and then came back. Possibly they had been down a crevasse, and had finally succeeded in getting out of it again. Curiously enough, they did not pay much attention to the weather when they went on trips of this kind. When the Ymer took them they would disappear, even if the temperature was down in the fifties below zero, with wind and driving snow. Thus, Ja'ala, a lady belonged to Bialand, took it into her head to go off with three attendant cavaliers. We came upon them later. They were then lying quietly behind a hammock down on the ice, and seemed to be quite happy. They had been away for about eight days without food, and during that time the temperature had seldom been above minus fifty-eight degrees Fahrenheit. August twenty-third arrived. Calm, partly overcast, and minus forty-three point six degrees Fahrenheit. Finer weather for taking out our sledges and driving them over to the starting point could not be imagined. They had to be brought up through the door of the clothing store. It was the largest and the easiest to get through. We had first to dig away the snow which Leslie had been allowed to collect there, as the inmates of this department had for some time passed used the inner passage. The snow had blotted out everything so that no sign of the entrance could be seen. But with a couple of strong shovels and a couple of strongmen to use them, the opening was soon laid bare. To get the sledges up was a longer business. They weighed eight hundred and eighty pounds apiece, and the way up to the surface was steep. A tackle was rigged, and by holling and shoving they slowly one by one came up into daylight. We dragged them away to a place near the instrument screen so as to get a clear start away from the house. The dogs were fresh and wild, and wanted plenty of room. A case, not to mention a post, still as the instrument screen would all have been objects of extreme interest, to which, if there had been the slightest opportunity, their course would infallibly have been directed. The protests of their drivers would have been of little avail. The dogs had not been let loose that morning, and every man was now in his tent harnessing them. Meanwhile, I stood contemplating the packed sledges that stood there ready to begin the long journey. I tried to work up a little poetry. The ever-restless spirit of man. The mysterious, awe-inspiring wilderness of ice. But it was no good. I suppose it was too early in the morning. I abandoned my efforts after coming to the conclusion that each sledge gave one more the idea of a coffin than of anything else, all the cases being painted black. It was as we had expected. The dogs were in the verge of exploding. What a time we had getting them all into the traces. They could not stand still an instant. Either it was a friend they wanted to wish good morning, or it was an enemy they were longing to fly at. There was always something going on. When they kicked out with their hind legs, raising a cloud of snow, or glared defiantly at each other, it often caused their driver an anxious moment. If he had his eye on them at this stage, he might, by intervening quickly and firmly, prevent the impending battle. But one cannot be everywhere at once, and the result was a series of the wildest fights. Strange beasts. They had been going about the place comparatively peacefully the whole winter, and now, as soon as they were in harness, they must needs fight as if their lives depended on it. At last we were all ready and away. It was the first time we had driven with teams of twelve so that we were anxious to see the result. It went better than we had expected. Of course, not like an express train, but we could not expect that the first time. Some of the dogs had grown too fat in the course of the winter, and had difficulty in keeping up. For them, this first trip was a stiff pull. But most of them were in excellent condition. Fine, rounded bodies, not lumpish. It did not take long to get up the hill this time. Most of them had to stop and get their wind on the slope, but there were some that did it without a hold. Up by the top everything looked just as we had left it in April. The flag was still standing where we had planted it, and it not looked much the worse for where. And what was still stranger, we could see our old tracks southward. We drove all our sledges well up, unharnessed the dogs, and let them go. We took it for granted that they would all rush joyfully home to the flesh-pots, nor did the great-landen bird disappoint us. They set off gaily homewards, and soon the ice was strewn with dogs. They did not behave altogether like good children. In some places there was a sort of mist over the ice. This was the cloud of snow thrown up by the combatants. But on their return they were irreproachable. One could not take any notice of a hold here and there. At the inspection that evening it appeared that ten of them were missing. That was strange. Could all ten have gone down crevasses? It seemed unlikely. Next morning two men went over to the starting point to look for the missing dogs. On the way they crossed a couple of crevasses, but there was no dog to be seen. When they arrived at a place where the sledges stood, there lay all ten curled up asleep. They were lying by their own sledges and did not seem to take the slightest notice of the men's arrival. One or two of them may have opened an eye, but that was all. When they were roused and given to understand by unmistakable signs that their presence was desired at home, they seemed astonished beyond all bounds. Some of them simply declined to believe it. They merely turned round a few times and lay down again on the same spot. They had to be flogged home. Can anything more inexplicable be imagined? There they lay, three miles from their comfortable home, where they knew that abundance of food awaited them, in a temperature of minus 40 degrees Fahrenheit. Although they had now been out for 24 hours, none of them gave a sign of wanting to leave the spot. If it had been summer with warm sunshine, one might have understood it, but as it was, no. That day, August 24th, the sun appeared above the barrier again, for the first time in four months. He looked very smiling, with a friendly nod for the old pressure ridges he had seen for so many years, but when his first beams reached the starting point his face might well show surprise. Well, if they're not first after all, and I've been doing all I could to get there. It could not be denied we had won the race and reached the barrier a day before him. The day for our actual start could not be fixed. We should have to wait until the temperature moderated somewhat. So long as it continued to grovel in the depths, we could not think of setting out. All our things were now ready up on the barrier, and nothing remained but to harness the dogs and start. When I say all our things were ready, this is not the impression anyone would have gained who looked in on us. The cutting out and sewing were going on worse than ever. What had previously occurred to one as a thing of secondary importance, which might be done if there was time, but might otherwise quite well be dropped, now suddenly appeared as the most important part of the whole outfit. And then out came the knife and cut away, until great heaps of offcuts and hair lay about the floor. Then the needle was produced, and seam after seam added to those there were already. The days went by, and the temperature would give no sign of spring. Now and then it would make a jump of about thirty degrees, but only to sink just as rapidly back to minus fifty-eight degrees Fahrenheit. It is not at all pleasant to hang about waiting like this. I always have the idea that I am the only one who is left behind while all the others are out on the road, and I could guess that I was not the only one of us who felt this. I'd give something to know how far Scott is today. Oh, he's not out yet, bless you. It's much too cold for his ponies. Ah, but how do you know they have it as cold as this? I expect it's far warmer where they are, among the mountains, and you can take your oath they're not lying idle. Those boys have shown what they can do. This was the sort of conversation one could hear daily. The uncertainty was worrying many of us, not all, and personally I felt it a great deal. I was determined to get away as soon as it was at all possible, and the objection that much might be lost by starting too early did not seem to me to have much force. If we saw that it was too cold all we had to do was to turn back so that I could not see there was any risk. September came, with minus 43.6 degrees Fahrenheit. That is a temperature that one can always stand, but we had better wait and see what it is going to do. Perhaps it will only play its old tricks again. Next day, minus 63.4 degrees Fahrenheit, calm and clear. September 6th, minus 20.2 degrees Fahrenheit. At last the change had come, and we thought it was high time. Next day, minus 7.6 degrees Fahrenheit. The little slant of wind that came from the east felt quite like a mild spring breeze. Well, at any rate, we now had a good temperature to start in.  September 8th arrived. We turned out as usual, had breakfast, and were then on the move. We had not much to do. The empty sledges we were to use for driving up to the starting point were ready. We only had to throw a few things onto them. But it turned out that the mere fact of having so few things was the cause of its taking a long time. We were to harness twelve dogs to the empty sledges, and we had an idea that it would cost us a struggle to get away. We helped each other, two and two, to bring the dogs to the sledges and harness them. Those who were really careful had anchored their sledges to a peg firmly fixed in the snow. Others had contented themselves with capsizing their sledges, and others again were even more reckless. We all had to be ready before the first man could start. Otherwise it would have been impossible for those who were behind to hold in their dogs, and the result would have been a false start. Our dogs were in a fearful state of excitement and confusion that morning, but at last everything was ready, barring one or two trifles. Then I suddenly heard a wild yell, and spinning round I saw a team tearing off without a driver. The next driver rushed forward to help with the result that his dogs made off after the others. The two sledges were on ahead, and the two drivers after them in full gallop, but the odds were too unequal. In a few moments the drivers were beaten. The two runaway teams had made off in a southwestern direction and were going like the wind. The man had hard work. They had long ago stopped running and were now following in the tracks of the sledges. The dogs had disappeared behind the ridges, which the man did not reach till much later. Meanwhile the rest of us waited. The question was, what would those two do when at last they had come up with their sledges? Would they turn and go home, or would they drive up to the starting point? Waiting was no fun under any circumstances, and so we decided to go on to the starting point and, if necessary, wait there. No sooner said than done, and away we went. Now we should see what command the fellows had over their dogs, for in all canine probability these teams would now try to follow the same course that the runaways had taken. This fear turned out not to be grantless. Three managed to turn their dogs and put them in the right direction, but the other two were off on a new course. Afterwards, of course, they tried to make out that they thought we were all going that way. I smiled but said nothing. It had happened more than once that my own dogs had taken charge. No doubt I had felt rather foolish at the time, but after all. It was not till noon that we're all assembled with our sledges. The drivers of the runaways had had stiff work to catch them and were wet through with their exertions. I had some thoughts of turning back, as three young puppies had followed us. If we went on, we should have to shoot them. But a turn back after all this work, and then probably have the same thing over again next morning, was not a pleasant prospect. And above all, to see Lindström standing at the door, shaking with laughter. No, we'd better go on. I think we were all agreed in this. The dogs were now harnessed to the loaded sledges, and the empty ones were stacked one above another.  The old tracks were soon lost sight of, but we immediately picked up the line of flags that had been set up at every second kilometer on the last depot journey. The going was splendid, and we went at a rattling pace at the south. We did not go very far the first day, eleven and three-quarter miles, and pitched our camp at 3.30 p.m. The first night out is never very pleasant, but this time it was awful. There was such a row going on among our ninety dogs that we could not close our eyes. It was a blessed relief when four in the morning came around, and we could begin to get up. We had to shoot the three puppies when we stopped for lunch that day. The going was the same. Nothing could be better. The flags we were following stood just as we'd left them. They showed no trace of there having been any snowfall in the interval. That day we did fifteen and a half miles. The dogs were not yet in training, but were picking up every hour. By the tenth they seemed to have reached their full vigor. That day none of us could hold in his team. They all wanted to get forward, with the result that one team ran into another, and confusion followed. This was a tiresome business. The dogs wore themselves out to no purpose, and of course the time spent in extricating them from one another was lost. They were perfectly wild that day. When Lassesson, for instance, caught sight of his enemy Huns, who was in another team, he immediately encouraged his friend Fix to help him. These two then put on all the speed they could, with the result that the others in the same team were excited by the sudden acceleration, and joined in the spurt. It made no difference how the driver tried to stop them. They went on just as furiously, until they reached the team that included the object of Lassesson's and Fix's endeavors. Then the two teams dashed into each other, and we had ninety-six dogs' legs to sort out. The only thing that could be done was to let those who could not hold in their teams unharness some of the dogs and tie them on the sledge. In this way we got things to work satisfactorily at last. We covered eighteen-and-a-half miles that day. On Monday the 11th we woke up to a temperature of minus sixty-seven point nine degrees Fahrenheit. The weather was splendid, calm and clear. We could see by the dogs that they were not feeling happy, as they had kept comparatively quiet that night. The cold affected the going at once. It was slow and unyielding. We came across some crevasses, and Hans's sledge was nearly in one, but it was held up, and he came out of it without serious consequences. The cold caused no discomfort on the march. On the contrary, at times it was too warm. One's breath was like a cloud, and so thick was the vapor over the dogs that one could not see one team from the next, though the sledges were being driven close to one another. On the 12th it was minus sixty-one point six degrees Fahrenheit, with a breeze dead against us. This was undeniably bitter. It was easy to see that the temperature was too much for the dogs. In the morning especially they were a pitiful sight. They lay rolled up as tightly as possible, with their noses under their tails, and from time to time one could see a shiver run through their bodies. Indeed some of them were constantly shivering. We had to lift them up and put them into their harness. I had to admit that with this temperature it would not pay to go on. The risk was too great. We therefore decided to drive on to the depot in eighty degrees south and unload our sledges there. On that day too we made the awkward discovery that the fluid in our compasses had frozen, rendering them useless. The weather had become very thick, and we could only guess vaguely the position of the sun. Our progress under these circumstances was very doubtful. Possibly we were on the right course, but it was just as probable, nay more so, that we were off it. The best thing we could do, therefore, was to pitch our camp and wait for a better state of things. We did not bless the instrument maker who had supplied those compasses. It was ten a.m. when we stopped. In order to have a good shelter for the long day before us we decided to build two snow huts. The snow was not good for this purpose, but by fetching blocks from all sides we managed to put up the huts. Hansen built one and whisting the other. In a temperature such as we now had, a snow hut is greatly preferable to attend, and we felt quite comfortable when we came in and got the primers going. That night we heard a strange noise round us. I looked under my bag to see whether we had far to drop, but there was no sign of a disturbance anywhere. In the other hut they had heard nothing. We afterwards discovered that the sound was only due to snow settling. By this expression I mean the movement that takes place when a large extent of the snow surface breaks and sinks, settles down. This movement gives one the idea that the ground is sinking under one, and it is not a pleasant feeling. It is followed by a dull roar which often makes the dogs jump into the air, and that drivers too for that matter. Once we heard this booming on the plateau so loud that it seemed like the thunder of cannon. We soon grew a custom to it. Next day the temperature was minus 62.5 degrees Fahrenheit, calm and perfectly clear. We did 18.5 miles and kept our course as well as we could with the help of the sun. It was minus 69.3 degrees Fahrenheit when we camped. This time I had done a thing that I have always been opposed to. I had brought spirits with me in the form of a bottle of Norwegian Aquavit and a bottle of gin. I thought this is a suitable occasion to bring in the gin. It was as hard as flint right through. While we were thawing it the bottle burst and we threw it out into the snow, with the result that all the dogs started to sneeze. The next bottle, Aquavit number one, was like a bone, but we had learned wisdom by experience and we succeeded with care in thawing it out. We waited till we were all in our bags and then we had one. I was greatly disappointed. It was not half so good as I had thought, but I am glad I tried it, as I shall never do so again. The effect was nil. I felt nothing, either in my head or my feet. The fourteenth was cool. The temperature remained at minus sixty-eight point eight degrees Fahrenheit. Fortunately it was clear so that we could see where we were going. We had not gone far before a bright projection appeared on the level surface, out with the glasses, the depot, there at lay, right in our course. Hansen, who had driven first the whole way without a four-runner and for the most part without a compass, had no need to be ashamed of his performance. We agreed that it was well done, and that, no doubt, was all the things he got. We reached it at ten-fifteen a.m. and unloaded our sledges at once. Whisting undertook the far-from-pleasant task of getting us a cup of warm milk at minus sixty-eight point eight degrees Fahrenheit. He put the primers behind one of the cases of provisions and set it going. Strangely enough, the paraffin was still liquid in the vessel, but this was no doubt because it had been well protected in the case. A cup of Horlick's molted milk tasted better that day than the last time I had tried it, in a restaurant in Chicago. Having enjoyed that, we threw ourselves on the almost empty sledges and set our course for home. The going was difficult, but with the lightweight they now had to pull, the dogs went along well. I sat with whisting, as I considered his team the strongest. The cold held on unchanged, and I was often surprised that it was possible to sit still on the sledges, as we did without freezing, but we got on quite well.  I myself took to my ski, and let myself be pulled along. This so-called sport has never appealed to me, but under the circumstances it was permissible. It warmed my feet, and that was the object of it. I again had recalls to this sport of ski driving later on, but that was for another reason. On the fifteenth, as we sat in a tent cooking and chatting, Hansen suddenly said, Why, I believe my heel's gone.  It did not look well. He rubbed it until he thought he could feel something again, and then put his feet back in his stockings and got into his bag. Now it was Stuber's turn. Blessed if I don't think there's something wrong with mine too. Same proceeding. Same result. This was pleasant. Two doubtful heels and 46 miles from Framheim. When we started next morning it was fortunately milder, almost summer, minus 40 degrees Fahrenheit. It felt quite pleasant. The difference between minus 40 degrees and minus 60 degrees is, in my opinion, very perceptible. It may perhaps be thought that when one gets so far down, a few degrees one way or the other do not make any difference, but they do. While driving that day we were obliged to let lose several of the dogs who could not keep up. We suppose that they would follow our tracks. Adam and Lazarus were never seen again. Sarah fell dead on the way without any previous symptom. Camilla was also among those let lose. On the way home we kept the same order as on the previous days. Hanson and Wisting as a rule were a long way ahead unless they stopped and waited. We went at a tearing pace. We thought of halting at the sixteen-mile flag, as we called it. The marked thirty kilometers from Framheim and waiting for the others to come up, but as the weather was of the best, calm and clear, and with our tracks on the way south, perfectly plain, I decided to go on. The sooner we got the bad heels into the house, the better. The two first sledges arrived at four p.m., the next at six, and the two following ones at six thirty. The last did not come in till twelve thirty a.m. Heaven knows what they had been doing on the way. With the low temperatures we experienced on this trip, we noticed a curious snow formation that I had never seen before. Fine, extremely fine drift snow collected and formed small cylindrical bodies of an average diameter of one and a quarter inches, and about the same height. They were, however, of various sizes. They generally rolled over the surface like a wheel, and now and then collected into large heaps, from which again, one by one, or several together, they continued their rolling. If you took one of these bodies in the hand, there was no increase of weight to be felt, not the very slightest. If you took one of the largest and crushed it, there was, so to speak, nothing left. With the temperature in the minus forties, we did not see them. As soon as we came home, we attended to the heels. Pristrad had both his heels frozen, one slightly, the other more severely, though, so far as I could determine not so badly as the other two. The first thing we did was to lance the big blisters that had formed, and let out the fluid they contained. Afterwards, we put on barracic compresses, night and morning. We kept up this treatment for a long time. At last the old skin could be removed, and the new lay there fresh and healthy. The heel was cured. Circumstances had arisen, which made me consider it necessary to divide the party into two. One party was to carry out the march to the south. The other was to try to reach King Edward VII land, and see what was to be done there, besides exploring the region around the Bay of Whales. This party was composed of Pristrad, Stubbroot and Jonson, under the leadership of the first named. The advantages of this new arrangement were many. In the first place, a smaller party could advance more rapidly than a larger one. Our numbers, both of men and dogs, on several of the previous trips, had clearly shown the arrangement to be unfortunate. The time we took to get ready in the morning, four hours, was one of the consequences of being a large party. With half the number, or only one tent full, I hoped to be able to reduce this time by half. The importance of the depots we had laid down was, of course, greatly increased, since they would now only have to support five members of the party originally contemplated, and would thus be able to furnish them with supplies for so much more time. From a purely scientific point of view, the change offered such obvious advantages that it is unnecessary to insist upon them. Hence forward, therefore, we worked so to speak in two parties. The polar party was to leave as soon as spring came in earnest. I left it to praise Dritt himself to fix the departure of the party he was to lead. There was no such hurry for them. They could take things more easily. Then the same old fuss about the outfit began all over again, and the needles were busy the whole time. Two days after our return, Wisting and Bjarland, went out to the 30 kilometer mark with the object of bringing in the dogs that had been let loose on that part of the route and had not yet returned. They made the trip of 60 kilometers, 37 and a half miles, in six hours, and brought all the stragglers, ten of them, back with them. The farthest of them were found lying by the flag. None of them showed a sign of getting up when the sledges came. They had to be picked up and harnessed, and one or two that had sore feet were driven on the sledges. In all probability most of them would have returned in a few days. But it is incomprehensible that healthy, plucky dogs, as many of them were, should take it into their heads to stay behind like that. On September 24th we had the first tidings of spring when Bjarland came back from the ice and told us he had shot a seal. So the seals had begun to come up onto the ice. This was a good sign. The next day we went out to bring it in, and we got another at the same time. There was excitement among the dogs when they got fresh meat to say nothing of fresh blubber. Nor were we men inclined to say no to a fresh take. On September 27th we removed the roof that had covered over the window of our room. We had to carry the light down through a long wooden channel so that it was considerably reduced by the time it came in. But it was light, genuine daylight, and it was much appreciated. On the 26th Camilla came back after an absence of ten days. She had been let loose 68 miles from Framheim on the last trip. When she came in she was as fat as ever. Probably she had been feasting in her solitude on one of her comrades. She was received with great ovations by her many admirers. On September 29th a still more certain sign of spring appeared, a flight of Antarctic Petrels. They came flying up to us to bring the news that now spring had come, this time in earnest. We were delighted to see these fine swift birds again. They flew round the house several times to see whether we were all there still, and we were not long in going out to receive them. It was amusing to watch the dogs. At first the birds flew pretty near the ground. When the dogs caught sight of them they rushed out, the whole lot of them, to catch them. They tore along scouring the ground and of course all wanted to be first. Then the birds suddenly rose into the air and presently the dogs lost sight of them. They stood still for a moment, glaring at each other, evidently uncertain of what was the best thing to do. Such uncertainty does not as a rule last long. They made up their minds with all desirable promptitude and flew at each other's throats. So now spring had really arrived. We'd only to cure the frostbitten heels and then away. End of Section 20 End of Volume 1 Chapter 9 The End of the Winter End of Volume 1 Section 21 of The South Pole This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Christine The South Pole by Roland Amundsen Translation by A. G. Carter Section 21 Volume 2 Chapter 10 The Start for the Pole Part 1 At last we got away on October the 19th. The weather for the past few days had not been altogether reliable. Now windy, now calm, now snowing, now clear, regular spring weather, in other words. That day it continued and settled. It was misty and thick in the morning and did not promise well for the day. But by 9.30 there was a light breeze from the east and at the same time it cleared. There was no need for a prolonged inquiry into the sentiments of the party. What do you think? Shall we start? Yes, of course. Let's be jogging on. There was only one opinion about it. Our cursors were harnessed in a jiffy and with a little nod as much as to say see you tomorrow, we were off. I don't believe Lindstrom even came out of doors to see a start. Such an everyday affair. What's the use of making a fuss about it? There were five of us. Hansen, Visting, Hussle, Bialand and myself. We had four sledges with 13 dogs to each. At the start our sledges were very light as we were only taking supplies for the trip to 80 degrees south where all our cases were waiting for us. We could therefore sit on the sledges and flourish our whips with a jaunty air. I sat astride on Visting's sledge and anyone who had seen us would not doubt had thought a polar journey looked very inviting. Down on the sea, I stood prestured with a cinematograph turning the crank as fast as he could go as we went past. When we came up onto the barrier on the other side he was there again turning incessantly. The last thing I saw as we went over the top of the ridge and everything familiar disappeared was a cinematograph. It was coming inland at full speed. I had been engaged in looking out ahead and turned round suddenly to throw a lost glance in the direction of the spot that to us stood for all that was beautiful on earth. When I caught sight of what do you think? A cinematograph. He can't be taking anything but air nor can he. Hardly that. The cinematograph vanished below the horizon. The going was excellent but the atmosphere became thicker as we went inland. For the first few miles from the edge of the barrier I had been sitting with Hussle but seeing that Wisting's dogs could manage too on the sledge better than the others I moved. Hansen drove first. He had to steer by compass alone as the weather had got thicker. After him came Bialand then Hussle and finally Wisting and I. We had just gone up a little slope when we saw that it dropped rather steeply on the other side. The descent could not be more than 20 yards long. I sat with my back to the dogs looking aft and was enjoying the brisk drive.  A few inches more to one side and we should have taken no part in the polar journey. We guessed from this broken surface that we had come too far to the east and altered our course more restfully. When we had reached safer ground I took the opportunity of putting on my ski and driving so in this way the weight was more distributed. Before very long it cleared a little and we saw one of our mark flags straight ahead. We went up to it. Many memories clung to the spot cold and slaughter of dogs. It was there we had killed the three puppies on the last trip. We had then covered 17 miles and we camped well pleased with the first day of our long journey. My belief that with all in one tent we should manage our camping and preparations much better than before was fully justified. The tent went up as though it arose out of the ground and everything was done as though we had had long practice. We found we had ample room in the tent and our arrangements worked splendidly the whole time. They were as follows as soon as we halted all took a hand at the tent. The pegs in the valence of the tent were driven in and visiting crept inside and planted the pole while the rest of us stretched the guy ropes. When this was done I went in and all the things that were to go inside were handed into me sleeping bags, kit bags, cookers provisions. Everything was put in its place the primus lighted and the cooker filled with snow. Meanwhile the others fed their dogs and let them lose. Instead of the guard we showered loose snow around the tent. This proved to be sufficient protection. The dogs respected it. The bindings were taken off all our ski and either stowed with other loose articles in a provision case or hung up together with the harness on the top of the ski which were lashed upright to the front of the sledge. The tent proved excellent in every way. The dark color subdued the light and made it agreeable. Neptune, a fine dog, was let loose when we had come six miles over the plane. He was so fed that he could not keep up. We felt certain that he would follow us but he did not appear. We then supposed that he had turned back and made it for the flesh pots but strangely enough he did not do that either. He never arrived at the station it is quite a mystery what became of him. Rota, another fine animal was also set free. She was not fit for the journey and she afterwards arrived at home. Ulrich began by having arrived on the sledge. He picked up later. Bjorn went limping after the sledge. Peary was incapacitated. He was let loose and followed for a time but then disappeared. When the eastern party afterwards visited the depot in 80 degrees south they found him there in good condition. He was shy at first but by degrees let them come near him and put the harness on. He did very good service after that. Uranus and folks were out of condition. This was pretty bad for the first day but the others were all wore their weight in gold. During the night it blew a gale from the east but it moderated in the morning so that we got away at 10 am. The weather did not hold for long. The wind came again with renewed force for the same quarter with thick driving snow. However we went along well and passed flag after flag. After going 19 under quarter miles we came to a snow beacon that had been erected at the beginning of April and had stood for 7 months. It was still quite good and solid. This gave us a good deal to think about. So we could depend upon these beacons. They would not fall down. From the experiences gained we afterwards erected the whole of our extensive system of beacons on the way south. The wind went to the southeast during the day. It blew but luckily it had stopped snowing. The temperature was minus 11.5 degree Fahrenheit and bitter enough against the wind. When we stopped in the evening and set our tent we had just found our tracks from the last trip. They were sharp and clear though 6 weeks old. We were glad to find them as we had seen no flag for some time and were beginning to get near the ugly trap 46.5 miles from the house that had been found on the last step of the journey so we had to be careful. The next day the 21st brought very thick weather a strong breeze from the southeast with thick driving snow. It would not have been a day for crossing the trap if we had not found our old tracks. It was true that we could not see them far but we could still see the direction they took. So as to be quite safe I now set our course northeast by east. Two points east was the original course. And compared with our old tracks this looked right as the new course was considerably more easterly than the direction of the tracks. One lost glance over the camping round to see whether anything was forgotten and then into the blizzard. It was really wild weather snowing from above and drifting from below so that one was quite blinded. We could not see far very often we on the last sledge had difficulty in seeing the first.  For a long time we had been going markedly downhill and this was not in accordance with our reckoning but in that weather one could not make much of a reckoning. We had several times passed our crevices but none of any size. Suddenly we saw Bialund's sledge sink over. He jumped off and seized the trace. The sledge lay on its side for a few seconds then began to sink more and more and finally disappeared out together. Bialund had got a good purchase in the snow and the dogs lay down and took their clothes in. The sledge sank more and more all this happened in a few moments. No, I can't hold it any longer. We, with Sting and I, had just come up. He was holding on convulsively and resting with all his force but it was no use. Inch by inch the sledge sank deeper. The dogs too seemed to understand the gravity of the situation.  But still inch by inch slowly and surely it went down into the abyss. Bialund was right enough when he said he couldn't hold on any longer. A few seconds more and his sledge and 13 dogs would never have seen the light of day again. Help came at the last moment. Hansen and Hussle, who were a little in advance when it happened, had snatched an alpine rope from a sledge and came to his assistance. They made the rope fast to the trace and two of us, Bialund and I, were now able, by getting a good purchase, to hold the sledge suspended. First the dogs were taken out. Then Hussle's sledge was drawn back and placed across the nervous part of the crevasse where we could see that the edges were solid. Then by our combined effort the sledge, which was dangling far below, was hoisted up as far as we could get it and made fast to Hussle's sledge by the dog's traces. Now we could slack off and let go. One sledge hung securely enough by the other. We could breathe a little more freely. The next thing to be done was to get the sledge right up and before we could manage that it had to be unloaded. A man would have to go down on the rope cast off the lashings of the cases and attach them again for drawing up. They all wanted this job, but Wisting had it. He fastened the alpine rope around his body and went down. Bialund and I took up our former positions and acted as anchors. Meanwhile, Wisting reported what he saw down below. The case with the cooker was hanging by its last thread. It was secured and again saw the light of day. Hussle and Hansen attended to the holding up of the cases as Wisting had them ready. These two fellows moved about on the brink of the cousin with the coolness that I regarded at first with approving eyes. I admire courage and an attempt of danger, but the lengths to which they carried it at last was too much of a good thing. They were simply playing hide and seek with fate. Wisting's information from below that the coordinates they were standing on was only a few inches thick did not seem to have the slightest effect on them. On the contrary, they seemed to stand on them more securely. We've been lucky, said Wisting. This is the only place where the crevice is narrow enough to put a sledge across. If he had gone a little more to the left, Hansen looked eagerly in that direction. None of us would have escaped. There is no surface there, only across a thinnest paper. It doesn't look very inviting down below either. Immense spikes of eyes sticking up everywhere, which would spit you before you go very far down. This description was not attractive. It was well we had found such a good place. Meanwhile, Wisting had finished his work and was hauled up. When asked whether he was not glad to be on the surface again, he answered with a smile that it was nice and warm down there. We then hauled the sledge up and for the time being, all was well. But, said Hassell, we must be careful going along here, because I was just on the point of going in when Hansen and I were bringing up the sledge. He smiled as though at a happy memory. Hassell had seen that it was best to be careful. There was no need to look for crevices. There was literally nothing else to be seen. There could be no question of going further into the trap, for we had long ago come to the conclusion that, in spite of our precautions, we had arrived at this ugly place. We should have to look about for a place for the tent, but that was easier said than done. There was no possibility of finding a place large enough for both the tent and the guy ropes. The tent was set up on a small, apparently solid spot, and the guy stretched across crevices in all directions. We were beginning to be quite familiar with the place. That crevasse ran there and there, and it had a sidefisher that went so and so, just like schoolboys learning a lesson. Meanwhile, we had brought all our things as far as possible into a place of safety. The dogs lay harness to reduce the risk of losing them. Wasting was just going over to his sledge. He had gone the same way several times before, when suddenly I saw nothing but his head, shoulders and arms about the snow. He had fallen through, but saved himself by stretching his arms out as he fell. The crevasse was bottomless like the rest. We went into the tent and cooked lobscoos. Leaving the weather to take care of itself, we made ourselves as comfortable as we could. It was then one o'clock in the afternoon. The wind had fallen considerably since we came in, and before we knew what was happening, it was perfectly calm. It began to brighten a little about three, and we went out to look at it. The weather was evidently improving, and on the northern horizon there was a sign of blue sky. On the south it was thick. Far off, in the densest part of the mist, we could vaguely see the outline of a dome-like elevation, and Wasting and Hansen went off to examine it. The dome turned out to be one of the small hay-cock formations that we had seen before in this district. They struck at it with their poles, and just as they expected, it was hollow, and revealed the darkest abyss. Hansen was positively chuckling with delight when he told us about it. Hassell sent him an envious glance. By 4 p.m. it cleared, and a small reconciling party composed of three started to find a way out of this. I was one of the three, so we had a long alpine row between us. I don't like tumbling in if I can avoid it by such simple means. We set out to the east, the directions that had bought us out of the same broken ground before, and we had not gone more than a few paces when we were quite out of it. It was not clear enough to look about us. Our tent stood at the north-eastern corner of a tract, so it was full of hammocks. We could decide beyond adult that this was the dreaded trap. We continued a little way to the east until we saw our course clearly, and then returned to camp. We did not waste much time in getting things ready and leaving the place. It was genuinely relieved to find ourselves once more on good ground, and resumed our journey southward at a brisk pace. That we were not quite out of the dangerous zone was shown by a number of small hammocks to the south of us. They extended across our course at right angles. We could also see from some long but narrow crevices we crossed that we must keep a good lookout. When we came into the vicinity of the line of hammocks that lay in our course, we stopped and discussed our prospects. We shall save a lot of time by going straight on through here instead of going round, said Hansen. I had to admit this, but on the other hand the risk was much greater. Oh, let's try it, he went on. If we can't do it, we can't. I was weak and allowed myself to be persuaded, and away we went among the haycocks. I could see how Hansen was enjoying himself. This was just what he wanted. He went faster and faster. Curiously enough, we passed several of these formations without noticing anything, and began to hope that we should get through. Then suddenly Hansen's three leading dogs disappeared, and the others stopped abruptly. He got them holed up with much trouble and came over. We others who were following crossed without accident, but our further progress seemed doubtful, for after a few more paces the same three dogs fell in again. We were known in exactly the same kind of places before. Crevices ran in every direction like a broken pane of glass. I had had enough, and would take no more part in this death ride. I announced decisively that we must turn back, follow our tracks, and got round it all. Hansen looked quite disappointed. Well, he said, but we shall be over it directly. I dare say we shall, he replied, but we must go back first. This was evidently hard on him. There was one formation in particular that attracted him, and he wanted to try his strength with it. It was a pressure mass that, as far as appearance went, might just as well have been formed out in the drift ice. It looked as if it was formed of four huge lumps of ice, raised on and against each other. We knew what it contained without examination, a yawning chasm. Hansen cast a last regretful glance upon it, and then turned back. We could now see all our surroundings clearly. This place lay. As we had remarked before in a hollow, we followed it round, and came up their eyes on the south without accident. Here we caught sight of one of our flags. It stood to the east of us, and thus confirmed our suspicion that we had been going too far to the west. We had one more contact with the broken ground, having to cross some crevices and pass a big hole, but then it was done, and we could once more rejoice in having solid ice beneath us. Hansen, however, was not satisfied till he had been to look into the hole. In the evening we reached the two snow huts we had built on the last trip, and we camped there, twenty-six miles from the depot. The huts were drifted up with snow, so we left them in peace, and as the weather was now so mild and fine, we preferred the tent. It had been an eventful day, and we had reason to be satisfied that we had come off so easily. The going had been good, and it had all gone like a game. When we started the next morning it was overcast and thick, and before we had gone very far we were in the midst of a south-western, with snow so thick that we could hardly see ten sledge lengths ahead of us. We had intended to reach the depot that day, but if this continued it was more than doubtful whether we should find it. Meanwhile we put on the pace. It was a long way on, so there was no danger of driving past it. During this while it had remained clear in the zenith, and we had been hoping that the wind and snow would cease, but we had no such luck. It increased rather than dropped. Our best sledge meter, one we knew it could depend on, was on distinct sledge, therefore he had to check the distance. At 1.30 pm he turned round to me and pointed out that we had gone the exact distance. I called out to Hansen to use his eyes well. Then at that very moment the depot showed up a few sledge lengths to the left of us, looking like a regular palace of snow in the thick air. This was a good test both for the sledge meter and the compass. We drove up to it and halted. There were three important points to be picked up on our way south, and one of them was found. We were all glad and in good spirits. The 99 miles from Framheim to this point had been covered in four marches, and we could now rest our dogs and give them as much seals flesh as they were capable of eating. Thus far the trip had been a good one for the animals, with one exception, they were all in the best condition. This exception was Uranus. We had never been able to get any fat on his bones. He remained thin and scraggly, and awaited his death at the depot a little later, in 82 degrees south. If Uranus was lanky to look at, the same could not be said of Jala, poor beast. In spite of her condition, she struggled to keep up. She did her at most, but unless her dimensions were reduced before we left 82 degrees south, she would have to accompany Uranus to another world. The cases of provisions and outfits that we had left here on the last trip were almost entirely snowed under, but it did not take long to dig them out. The first thing to be done was to cut up the seals for the dogs. These grand pieces of meat, with the blubber attached, did not have to be thrown at the dogs. They just helped themselves as long as there was any meat cut up, and when that was finished, they did not hesitate to attack the joint. It was a pleasure to see them, as they lay all over the place enjoying their food. It was all so delightfully calm and peaceful to begin with. They were all hungry and thought of nothing but satisfying their immediate cravings, but when this was done, there was an end of the truth. Although Hai had only half finished his share, he must needs go up to wrap and take away the peace he was eating. Of course, this could not happen without a great row, which resulted in the appearance of Hansen. Then Hai made himself scarce. He was a fine dog, but fearfully obstinate. If he had once taken a thing into his head, it was not easy to make him give it up. On one of our depot journeys, it happened that I was feeding Hansen's dogs. Hai had made short work of his pemmican, and looked round for more. Ah, there was drop enjoying his. That would just do for him. In a flash, Hai was upon him, forced him to give up his dinner, and was about to convert it to his own use. Meanwhile, I had witnessed the whole scene, and before Hai knew anything about it, I was upon him in turn. I hit him over the nose with a whip-handle, and tried to take the pemican from him. But it was not so easy. Neither of us would give in, and soon we were both rolling over and over in the snows, struggling for the mastery. I came off victorious after a pretty hot fight, and wrap got his dinner again. Any other dog would have dropped it at once, and being hit over the nose, but not Hai. It was a treat to get into the tent. The day had been a bitter one. During the night the wind went round to the north, and all the snows that had been blown northward by the wind of the previous day, had nothing to do but to come back again. The road was free, and it made the utmost use of its opportunity, nothing could be seen for driving snow when we turned out next morning. We could only stay where we were, and console ourselves with the thought that it made no difference, as it had been decided that we were to remain here two days. But staying in a tent all day is never very amusing, especially when one is compelled to keep to one's sleeping bag the whole time. You soon get tired of talking, and you can't ride all day long either. Eating is a good way of pathing the time, if you can afford it, and so is reading, if you have anything to read. But as the menu is limited, and the library as a rule somewhat deficient on a slidging trip, these two expedients fall to the ground. There is however one form of entertainment that may be indulged in under these circumstances without scruple, and that is a good nap. Happy is a man who can sleep the clock round on days like these. But that is a gift that is not for safe to all, and those who have it will not own up to it. I have heard men snore till I was really afraid they would choke, but as for acknowledging that they had been asleep, never. Some of them even have the coolness to assert that they suffer from sleeplessness, but it was not so bad as that with any of us. In the course of the day the wind dropped, and we went out to do some work. We transferred the old depot to the no-one. We now had here three complete sledge-loads, for which there would be little use, and which, therefore, were left behind. The eastern party availed themselves of part of these supplies on their journey, but not much. This depot is a fairly large one, and might come in useful if anyone should think of exploring the region from King Edward Land's southward. As things were, we had no need of it. At the same time the sledges were packed and when evening came everything was ready for our departure. There had really been no hurry about this, as we were going to stay here on the following day as well. But one soon learns in these regions that it is best to take advantage of good weather when you have it. You never know how long it will last. There was, however, nothing to be said about the days that followed. We could doze and doze as much as we liked. The work went on regularly, nevertheless. The dogs knaved and graved, storing up strength with every hour that went by. We will now take a trip out to our loaded sledges and see what they contain. Hansen stands first, bow to the south. Behind it come the stings, pylons and hassles. They all look pretty much alike, and as regards provisions their loads are precisely similar. Case number one contains about 5300 biscuits and weighs 111 pounds. Case number two, 112 variations of dog's pemmican, 11 bags of dried milk, chocolate and biscuits, total gross weight 177 pounds. Case number three, 124 variations of dog's pemmican, 10 bags of dried milk and biscuits, gross weight 161 pounds. Case number four, 39 variations of dog's pemmican, 86 variations of men's pemmican, nine bags of dried milk and biscuits, gross weight 165 pounds. Case number five, 96 variations of dog's pemmican, weight 122 pounds. Total net weight of provisions per sledge, 668 pounds. With the outfit and the weight of the sledge itself, the total came to pretty nearly 880 pounds. Hansen's sledge differed from the others in that it had aluminum fittings instead of steel and no sledge meter, as it had to be free from iron on account of the steering compass he carried. Each of the other three sledges had a sledge meter and compass. We were thus equipped with three sledge meters and four compasses. The instruments we carried were two sextants and three artificial horizons, two glass and one mercury, a hypsometer for measuring heights, and one aneroid. For meteorological observations, four thermometers, also two pairs of binoculars. We took a little traveling case of medicines from boroughs, welcome and call. Our surgical instruments were not many, a dental forceps and a beard clipper. Our sewing outfit was extensive, we carried a small, very light tent in reserve. It would have to be used if any of us were obliged to turn back. We also carried two primus lamps. Of paraffin we had a good supply, 22 and a half gallons divided among three sledges. We kept it in the usual cans, but they proved too weak. Not that we lost any paraffin, but bialane had to be constantly soldering to keep them tight. We had a good soldering outfit. Every man carried his own personal bag, in which he kept reserve clothing, diaries and observation books. We took a quantity of loose straps for spare ski bindings. We had double sleeping bags for the first part of the time, that is to say an inner and an outer one. There were five watches among us, of which three were chronometer watches. We had decided to cover the distance between 18 degree and 80 second degree cells in dialy marches of 17 miles. We could easily have done twice this, but as it was more important to arrive than to show great speed, we limited the distance. Besides which, here between the depots, we had sufficient food to allow us to take our time. We were interested in seeing how the dogs would manage the loaded sledges. We expected them to do well, but not so well as they did. On October 25th, we left 80 degree south with a light north westerly breeze, clear and mild. I was now to take up my position in advance of the sledges, and placed myself a few paces in front of Hansen's, with my ski pointing in the right direction. I lost look behind me, already, and away I went. I thought, no, I didn't have time to think. Before I knew anything about it, I was sent flying by the dogs. In the confusion that ensued, they stopped, luckily, so that I escaped without damage, as far as that went. To tell the truth, I was angry, but as I had sense enough to see that the situation, already sufficiently comic, would be doubly ridiculous if I allowed my annoyance to show itself, I wisely kept quiet, and after all, whose fault it was. I was rarely the only one to blame, why in the world had I not got away faster? I now changed my plan entirely. There was nothing to be ashamed of in that, I hope, and fell in with the awkward squad. There I was more successful. Already, go! And go, they did. First Hansen went off like a meteor, close behind him came Visting, and then Bialyn and Hassell. They all had ski on, and were driving with a line. I had made up my mind to follow in the rear, as I thought the dogs would not keep this up for long, but I soon had enough of it. We did the first six and a quarter miles in an hour. I thought that would do for me, so I went up to Visting, made a rope fast to his sledge, and there I stood till we reached 85 degrees five seconds south, 340 miles. Yes, that was a pleasant surprise. We had never dreamed of anything of the sort, driving on ski to the pole. Thanks to Hansen's brilliant talents as a dog driver, we could easily do this. He had his dogs well in hand, and they knew their master. They knew that the moment they failed to do their duty, they would be pulled up, and a hiding all round would follow. Of course, as always happens, nature occasionally got the better of discipline, but the confirmation that resulted checked any repetition of such conduct for a long while. The day's march was soon completed in this way, and we camped early. On the following day we were already inside of the large pressure ridges on the east, which we had seen for the first time on the second depot journey between 81st degree and 82nd degree south, and this showed that the atmosphere must be very clear. We could not see any greater number than the first time, however. From our experience of beacons built of snow, we could see that if we built such beacons now, on our way south, they would be slanted marks for our return journey. We therefore decided to adapt the system of landmarks to the greatest possible extent. We were built in all 150 beacons six feet high, and used in their construction 9000 blocks, cut out of the snow with specially large snow knives. In each of them was deposited a paper giving the number and position of the beacon, and indicating the distance and the direction to be taken to reach the next beacon to the north. It may appear that my prudence was exaggerated, but it always seemed to me that one could not be too careful on this endless uniform surface. If we lost our way here, it would be difficult enough to reach home. Besides which, the building of these beacons had other advantages, which we could all see and appreciate. Every time we stopped to build one, the dogs had a rest, and they wanted this, if they were to keep up the pace. We erected the first beacon in 80 degrees, 23 minutes south. To begin with, we contented ourselves with putting them up at every 13th or 15th kilometer. On the 29th, we shot the first dog, Hansen's Bone. He was too old to keep up, and was only a hindrance. He was placed in the depot, under a beacon, and was a great joy to us, or rather to the dogs later on. On the same day, we reached the second important point, the depot in 81st degree south. Our course took us very slightly to the east of it. The small pieces of packing case that had been used as marks on each side of the depot could be seen a long way off. On a subsequent examination, they showed no sign of snowfall. They stood just as they had been put in. In the neighborhood of the depot, we crossed two quite respectable crevices. They were apparently filled up, and caused us no trouble. We reached the depot at 2 p.m. Everything was in the best of order. The flag was flying, and hardly looked as if it had been up a day. Although it had now been waving there for nearly 8 months, the drift rounds at the depot were about one and a half feet high. The next day was brilliant, calm and clear. The sun really baked the skin of one's face. We put all our skin clothing out to dry. A little rhyme will always form at the bottom of a sleeping bag. We also availed ourselves of this good opportunity to determine our position and check our compasses. They proved to be correct. We replaced the provisions we had consumed on the way and resumed our journey on October 31st. There was a thick fog next morning, and very disagreeable weather. Perhaps we felt it more after the previous fine day. When we passed this way for the first time going south, Hansen's dogs had fallen into a crevasse, but it was nothing to speak of, otherwise we had no trouble. Nor did we expect at any this time. But in these regions, what one least expects frequently happens. The snow was loose and the going heavy. From time to time we crossed narrow crevasse. Once we saw through the fog a large open hole, we could not have been very far from it, or we should not have seen it. The weather was so thick. But all went well till we had come 13 and a half miles. Then Hansen had to cross a crevasse a yard wide. And in doing it, he was unlucky enough to catch the point of his ski in the traces of a henman's dogs, and fall right across the crevasse. This looked unpleasant. The dogs were across and a foot or two on the other side, but the sled was right over the crevasse, and had twisted as Hansen fell, so that a little more would bring it into line with the crevasse, and then, of course, down it would go. The dogs had quickly scented the fact that their lord and master was for the moment incapable of administering a confirmation. And they did not let slip the golden opportunity. Like a lot of roaring tigers, the whole team sat upon each other and fought till the hair flew. This naturally produced short, sharp jerks at the traces, so that the sledge worked round more and more, and at the same time the dogs in the heat of the combat were coming nearer and nearer to the brink. If this went on, all was irreverably lost. One of us jumped the crevasse, went into the middle of the struggling team, and fortunately got them to stop. At the same time, whisting through a line to Hansen and hauled him out of his unpleasant position. Although, I thought to myself as we went on, I wonder whether Hansen did not enjoy the situation. Stretched across a giddy abyss, with this prospect of slipping down it at any moment, that was just what he would like. We secured the sledge, completed our 17 miles, and camped. From 81st degree south we began to erect beacons at every 9 kilometers. The next day we observed the lowest temperature of the whole of this journey, minus 30.1 degree Fahrenheit. The wind was south-southeast, but not very strong. It did not feel like summer, all the same. We now adopted the habit which we kept up all the way to the south, of taking our lunch while building the beacons that lay halfway in our day's march. It was nothing very luxurious. Three or four dry oatmeal biscuits. That was all. If one wanted to drink, one could mix snow with a biscuit, bread and water. It is a diet that is not much thought after in our native latitudes, but latitude makes a very great difference in this world. If anybody had offered us more bread and water, we should gladly have accepted it. That day we crossed the last crevasse for a long time to come, and it was only a few inches wide. The surface looked grand ahead of us. It went in very long, almost imperceptible, undulations. We could only notice them by the way in which the beacons we put up often disappeared rather rapidly. On November the 2nd we had a gale from the south with heavy snow. The going was very stiff, but the dogs got the sledges along better than we expected. The temperature rose, as usual, with a wind from this quarter. Plus 14 degrees Fahrenheit. It was a pleasure to be out in such a temperature, although it did blow a little. The day after we had a light breeze from the north. The heavy going of the day before had completely disappeared. Instead of it we had the best surface one could desire, and it made our dogs break into a brisk alope. That was the day we were to reach the depot in 82 degrees south. But as it was extremely thick, our chances of doing so were small. In the course of the afternoon the distance was accomplished, but no depot was visible. However, our range of vision was nothing to boast of, 10 sledge lengths, not more. The most sensible thing to do under the circumstances was to camp and wait till it cleared. At four o'clock next morning the sun broke through. We let it get warm and dispersed the fog and then went out. What a morning it was. Radiantly clear and mild. So still, so still lay the mighty desert before us, level and white on every side. But now, there in the distance the level was broken. There was a touch of color on the white. The third important point was reached, the extreme outpost of civilization, our last depot lay before us. That was unspeakable relief. The victory now seemed half-worn. In the fog we had come about three and a half miles too far to the west. But we now saw that if we had continued our march the day before, we should have come right into our line of flags. There they stood, flag after flag, and the little strip of black clothes seemed to wave quite proudly, as though it claimed credit for the way in which it had discharged its duty. Here at the depot an 81st degree south, there was hardly a sign of snowfall. The drift round the depot had reached the same height as there, one and a half feet. Clearly the same conditions of weather had prevailed all over this region. The depot stood as we had made it, and the sledge as we had left it. Falling snow and drift had not been sufficient to cover even this. The little drift that there was offered an excellent place for the tent, being hard and firm. We had once said about the work that had to be done. First, Uranus was sent into the next world, and although he had always given us the impression of being thin and bony, it was no seen that there were masses of fat along his back. He would be much appreciated when we reached here on the return. Yala did not look as if she would fulfill the conditions, and we gave her another night. The dog's pemmican in the depot was just enough to give the dogs a good feed and load up the sledges again. We were so well supplied with all other provisions that we were able to leave a considerable quantity behind for the return journey. Next day we stayed here, to give the dogs a thorough arrest for the last time. We took advantage of the fine weather to dry our outfit and check our instruments. When evening came we were all ready, and now we could look back with satisfaction to the good work of the autumn. We had fully accomplished what we aimed at, namely transferring our base from 78th degree 38 minutes to 82nd degree. Thus, Yala had to follow Uranus, they were both laid on the top of the depot, beside eight little ones that never saw the light of day. During our stay here we decided to build beacons at every fifth kilometer, and to lay down depots at every degree of latitude. Although the dogs were drawing the sledges easily at present, we knew well enough that in the long run they would find it hard work if they were always to have heavy weights to pull. The more we could get rid of, and the sooner we could begin to do so, the better. On November the 6th at 8 am we left 82nd degree Thouse. Now the unknown lay before us, now our work began in Uranus. The appearance of the barrier was the same everywhere, flat with a splendid surface.  We were sorry to put an end to this beautiful creature, but there was nothing else to be done. Her friends, Karenius, Salon and Schwartz, scald up at the beacon where she lay as they passed, by duty called, and the whip sang dangerously near them, though they did not seem to hear it. We had now extended our daily march to 23 miles. In this way we should do a degree in three days. On the 7th we decided to stop for a day's rest. The dogs had been picking up wonderfully every day, and were now at the top of their condition, as far as health and training went. With the greatest ease they covered a day's march at a pace of 7.5 kilometers, 4 miles and 2.3 an hour. As for ourselves, we never had to move a foot. All we had to do was to let ourselves be told. The same evening we had to put an end to the last of our ladies, Els. She was herself bright on the ornament of his team, but there was no help for it. She was also placed on the top of a beacon. When we held at that evening in 82 degrees 20 minutes south, we saw on the south-western horizon several heavy masses of drab-coloured cloud, such as are usually to be seen over land. We could make out no land that evening, however, but when we came out next morning and directed our glasses to that quarter, the land lay there. Lofty and clear in the morning sun, we were now able to distinguish several summits, and to determine that this was the land extending south-eastward from Birdmore Glacier to south Victoria land. Our course had been through south all the time. At this spot we were about 250 miles to the east of Birdmore Glacier. Our course would continue to be through south. The same evening, November the 8th, we reached 83 degrees south by dead reckoning. The noon altitude next day gave 83 degrees one minute south. The depot we built here contained provisions for five men and 12 dogs for four days. It was made square, six feet each way of hard solid blocks of snow. A large flag was placed on the top. That evening a strange thing happened. Three dogs deserted, going northward on overall tracks. They were Lucy's favourites and had probably taken it into their heads that they ought to go back and looked after their friend. It was a great loss to us all, but especially to Bialand. They were all three forest-royed animals and among the best we had. He had to borrow a dog from Hansen's team, and if he did not go quite so smoothly as before, he was still able to keep up. On the tenths we got a bearing of the mountain chain, right down in south by West 2. Each day we drew considerably nearer the land, and could see more and more of its details. Mighty peaks, each loftier and wilder than the last, rose to heights of 15,000 feet. What struck us all were the bare sides that many of these mountains showed. We had expected to see them far more covered with snow. Mount Fridge of Nansen, for example, had quite a blue-black look. Only quite at the summit was it crowned by a mighty hood of ice that raised its shining top to some 15,000 feet. Further to the south rose Mount Don Pedro Christopherson. It was more covered with snow, but the long, gabbled summit was to a great extent bare. Still far the south, Mount Alice-Vedel, Charlesburg, Alice Glade and Rosegate came inside, all snow-clad from peak to base. I do not think I have ever seen a more beautiful or wilder landscape. Even from where we were, we seemed to be able to see away up from several places. Their lay leaves glacier, for instance, which would undoubtedly afford a good and even ascent, but it lay too far to the north. It is of enormous extent and would prove interesting to explore. Crown prints all of these mountains looked less promising, but they also laid too far to the north. A little to the west of South lay an apparently good way up. The mountains nearest the barrier did not seem to offer any great obstruction. What one might find later between Mount Pedro Christopherson and Thridge of Nansen was not easy to say. On the 12th we reached 84th degree south. On that day we made the interesting discovery of a chain of mountains running to the east. This, as it appeared from the spot where we were, formed a semicircle, where it joins the mountains of South Victoria land. This semicircle lay through south and our course was directed straight towards it. In the depot in 84th degree south we left, besides the usual quantity of provisions for five men and twelve dogs for four days, a can of paraffin, holding 17 litres, about 34 gallons. We had abundance of matches and could therefore distribute them over all the depots. The barrier continued as flat as before and the going was as good as it could possibly be. We had thought that a day's rest would be needed by the dogs for every degree of latitude, but this proved superfluous and looked as if they could no longer be tired. One or two had shown signs of bad feet, but were now perfectly well. Instead of losing strength the dogs seemed to become stronger and more active every day. Now they too had sighted the land and the black mass of Mount Fridge of Nansen seemed specially to appeal to them. Hansen often had hard work to keep them in the right course. Without any longer stay then we left 84th degree south the next day and steered for the bay ahead. There today we went 23 miles in thick fog and saw nothing of the land. It was hard to have to travel thus blindly of an unknown coast, but we could only hope for better weather. During the previous night we had heard for a change a noise in the ice. It was nothing very great and sounded like scattered infantry fire, a few rifle shots here and there underneath our tent. The artillery had not come up yet. We took no notice of it, though I heard one man say in the morning, blessed if I didn't think I got a walk on the air last night. A quick witness that it had not caused him his sleep, as that night he had very nearly snored us all out of the tent. During the forenoon we crossed a number of apparently newly formed crevices, most of them only about an inch wide. There had thus been a small local disturbance occasioned by one of the numerous small glaciers on land. On the following night all was quiet again and we never afterwards heard the slightest sound. On November 14th we reached 84 degree 40 minutes south. We were now rapidly approaching land. The mountain range on the east appeared to turn north eastward. Our line of ascent, which we had chosen long ago and now had our eyes fixed upon as we went, would take us a travel to the west of south, but so little that the digression was of no account. The semicircle we saw to the south made a more disquieting impression and looked as if it would offer great irregularities. On the following day the character of the surface began to change. Great wave-like formations seemed to roll higher and higher as they approached land and in one of the throats of these we found the surface greatly disturbed. At some bygone times immense fissures and chasms would have rendered its passage practically impossible, but now they were all drifted up and we had no difficulty in crossing. That day November the 15th we reached 85 degree south and camped at the top of one of these swelling waves. The valley we were to cross next day was fairly broad and rose considerably on the other side. On the west in the direction of the nearest land the undulation rose to such a height that it concealed a great part of the land from us. During the afternoon we built the usual depot and continued our journey on the following day. As we had seen from our camping round it was an immense undulation that we had to traverse. The ascent on the other side felt uncomfortably warm in the powerful sun, but it was no higher than 300 feet by the aneroid. From the top of this wave the barrier stretched away before us, flat at first, but we could see disturbances of the surface and the distance. Now we are going to have some fun in getting to land, I thought, for it seemed very natural that the barrier, hemmed in as it was here, would be much broken up. The disturbances we had seen consisted of some big old crevices, which were partly filled up. We avoided them easily. Now there was another deep depression before us, with a correspondingly high rise on the other side. We went over it capitally. The surface was absolutely smooth without a sign of fissure or hole anywhere. Then we shall get them when we are on the top, I thought. It was rather stiff work uphill and accustomed as we were to slopes. I stretched my neck more and more to get a view.  Not an irregularity, not a sign of disturbance. Quietly and evenly the ascent continued. I believe that we were then already above land. The large crevices that we had avoided down below probably formed the boundary. The hypsometer gave 930 feet above the sea. We were now immediately below the ascent, and made the final decision of trying it here. This being settled we pitched our camp. It was still early in the day, but we had a great deal to arrange before the mural. Here we should have to overhaul our whole supply of provisions. Take with us what was absolutely necessary for the remainder of the trip and leave the rest behind in the pool. First then, we camped, worked out our position, fed the dogs and let them lose again, and then went into our tent to have something to eat and go through the provision box. We had now reached one of the most critical points of our journey. Our plan had now to be laid, so we decided to go to the next camp. So that we might not only make the ascent as easily as possible, but also get through it to the end. Our calculations had to be made carefully, and every possibility taken into account. As with every decision of importance, we discussed the matter jointly. The distance we had before us from this spot to the pole and back was 683 miles. Reckoning with the ascent that we saw before us with other unforeseen obstructions and finally with the certain factors that the strength of our dogs would be gradually reduced to a fraction of what it was now, we decided to take provisions and equipment for 60 days on the sledges and to leave the remaining supplies enough for 30 days and outfit and depot. We calculated from the experience we had had that we ought to be able to reach this point again with 12 dogs left. We now had 42 dogs. Our plan was to take all the 42 up to the plateau. There 24 of them were to be slaughtered and the journey continued with 3 sledges and 18 dogs. Of these last 18, it would be necessary in our opinion to slaughter 6 in order to bring the other 12 back to this point. As the number of dogs grew less, the sledges would become lighter and lighter and once the time came of reducing their number to 12, we should only have 2 sledges left. This time again our calculations came out approximately right. It was only in reckoning the number of days that we made a little mistake. We took 8 days less that the time allowed. The number of dogs agreed exactly. We reached this point again with 12. After the question had been well discussed and each had given his opinion, we went out to get the repacking done. It was lucky the weather was so fine, otherwise this taking stock of provisions might have been a bitter piece of work. All our supplies were in such a form that we could count them instead of weighing them. Our pomegranate was in rations of 2 kg, 1 pound and 12 ounces. The chocolate was divided into small pieces, as chocolate always is, so that we knew what each piece weighed. Our milk powder was put up in bags of 102 ounces just enough for a meal. Our biscuits possessed the same property. They could be counted, but this was a tedious business as they were rather small. On this occasion we had to count 6000 biscuits. Our provisions consisted only of these four kinds and the combination turned out right enough. We did not suffer from a craving either for fat or sugar, though the want of these substances is very commonly felt on such journeys as ours. In our biscuits we had an excellent product consisting of oatmeal, sugar and dried milk, sweetmeat, jam, fruit, cheese, etc. we had left behind at Framheim. We took our reindeer skin clothing for which we had had no use as yet on the sledges. We were now coming onto the high ground and it might easily happen that it would be a good thing to have. We did not forget the temperature of minus 40 degrees Fahrenheit that Shackleton had experienced in 88 degrees south and if we measured with the same we could hold out a long while if we had the skin clothing. Otherwise we had not very much in our bags. The only change we had with us was put on here and the odd glosses hung out to air. We reckoned that by the time we came back in a couple of months they would be sufficiently aired and we could put them on again. As far as I remember the calculation proved correct. We took more food gear than anything else. If one's feet are well shot one can hold out a long time. When all this was finished three of us put on our ski and made for the nearest visible land. This was a little peak a mile and three quarters away. Mount Betty. It did not look lofty or imposing but was nevertheless 1000 feet above the sea. Small as it was it became important to us as it was there we got all our geological specimens. Running on ski felt quite strange although I had now covered 385 miles on them but we had driven the whole way and were somewhat out of training. We could feel this too as we went up the slope that afternoon. After Mount Betty the ascent became rather steep but the surface was even and the going splendid so we got on fast. First we came up a smooth mountain side about 1200 feet above the sea. Then over a little plateau. After that another smooth slope like the first and then down arose a long flat stretch which after a time began to rise very gradually until it finally passed into small glacier formations. Our reconnaissance extended to these small glaciers. We had ascertained that the way was practicable as far as we were able to see. We had gone about five and a half miles from the tent and ascended 2000 feet. On the way back we went gloriously. The last two slopes down to the barrier gave us all the speed we wanted. Bialand and I had decided to take a turnaround by Mount Betty for the sake of having real bare ground under our feet. We had not felt it since Madero in September 1910 and now we were in November 1911. Now sooner said that done. Bialand prepared for an elegant telemark swing and executed it in fine style. What I prepared to do I am still not quite sure. What I did was to roll over and I did it with great effect. I was very soon on my feet again and glanced at Bialand whether he had seen my tumble. I am not certain. However I pulled myself together after this unfortunate performance and remarked casually that it is not so easy to forget what one has once learned. Now doubtful he thought that I had managed the telemark swing at any rate. He was polite enough to let me think so. Mount Betty offered no perpendicular cracks or deep precipices to stimulate our desire for climbing.  It consisted of loose creases and was not an ideal promenade for people who had to be careful of their boots. It was a pleasure to set one's foot on bare ground again and we sat down on the rocks to enjoy the scene. The rocks very soon made themselves felt however and brought us to our feet again. We photographed each other in picturesque attitudes, took a few stones for those who had not yet set foot on bare earth and strapped on our ski. The dogs after having been so eager to make for bare land when they first saw it were now not the least interested in it. They lay on the snow and did not go near the top. Between the bare ground and the snow surface there was bright blue-green ice showing that at times there was running water here. The dogs did what they could to keep up with us on the way down but they were soon left behind. On our return we surprised our comrades with presents from the country but I fear they were not greatly appreciated. I could hear such words as Norway stones, heaps of them and I was able to put them together and understand what was meant. The presents were put in depot as not absolutely indispensable on the southern journey. By this time the dogs had already begun to be very voracious. Everything that came in their way disappeared, whips, ski bindings, lashings, etc. were regarded as delicacies. If one put down anything for a moment it vanished. With some of them this voracity went so far that we had to chain them. End of section 22. End of chapter 10. The start for the poll.


So Hogwarts Legacy players can expect a patch later on today which fixes many bugs and performance issues. Unfortunately though guys, PS users, PS5 users will have to wait a few days for this patch to be pushed out. Today I bring you all the details. So just confirmed by Mr. Chandler Wood on Twitter he said and I quote Xbox Series X and PC Hogwarts Legacy players expect a patch today to fix bugs and performance. Unfortunately, the PS5 patch needs to be pushed by a few days. This includes the fix for the collector's edition trophy. We're targeting later this week. Thanks for your patience. So yes, Xbox and PC players will get a patch today. PlayStation users, he states later this week. Now patch notes for this ain't yet available, but again he does say it fixes the broken collector's edition trophy where players will be hindered by a broken in-game counter. I believe the patch as well should fix the many many performance issues we are seeing many many people having especially on the PC. I have experienced a couple of crashes myself on the Xbox Series X2, but I've seen a lot of people complaining about this. I think I'm just a little fortunate. So yeah, as soon as the patch notes do become available, if they do become available guys, I will link them at the top of the video description so you can check them out if you want to. But yeah, like I said, I just expect this to fix a few performance issues people are actually having especially on PC and a few of the crashes people are having on console as well as like they state fixing that collector's edition trophy. They may indeed change a couple of things too if they do. If anything's not worthy, I'll probably bring you guys a follow-up video so stay tuned for that. Well yeah guys, expect a patch, PC and Xbox players later on today. Again, PlayStation users are going to have to wait until later this week. Guys, the end of the video has arrived. If you enjoyed it, leaving a like really helps me out. If you like what you see and want to see more Hogwarts, be sure to subscribe and hopefully people, I will see you on that next one.


I was married to my ex-husband for 10 years and the abuse started within the first year. Whenever he would get drunk and angry, he'd either pull a knife on me, attempt to choke me, and he would do a few months in jail, do whatever the program was, and then boom, out of the clear blue, here we go again. He just grabbed me and he threw me up against the wall. He just proceeded to beat me pretty badly. First it was choking.   That's when I saw the hammer come down on my head and I thought, I'm bigger than this. I'm better than this, and I'm not going to live like this no more. At that point I had already found out about the Rose Andham Center. They were just so wonderful and the main thing I got was courage. I'm not going to give anyone the power to run my life anymore. I'm going to run it, and I can, and I will, and I shall, and I did, and I am.


Tired of long-term commitment plans? Then Appalachian Wireless has the new plans for you! No credit checks, no contracts, and most of the features of Postpaid is ForwardPay, the simpler way to do wireless on the region's premier cellular provider. And it starts as low as $19.99 a month with unlimited talk and text. We are you, we are Appalachian Wireless. Apps like LODE will be holding the Appalachian Kingdom art exhibit by Allison Taylor during Hillbilly days. I'm especially looking forward to the fact that, I know a lot of people come to Pikeville during Hillbilly days, but it may be their, you know, annual trip back to hometown or they're bringing friends who have never been here. And so I'm just really excited to be able to introduce a different take on Appalachia to these people who may have some sort of other preconceived notion about Appalachia, the people who live here. Of course the event is called Hillbilly Days, which I mean proudly embraced the phrase and the word Hillbilly, but I think that it's going to be really great and refreshing to be able to show these people that there is a whole spectrum and mosaic of Hillbillies here in Pikeville. The exhibit offers a unique perspective on the beauty of the Appalachian region. Taylor and AppCycled hope those in town who may just be experiencing Pikeville for the first time will get the chance to see the work and experience a new point of view of the area. So it's just a series of illustrations that have to do with, I don't know, more of a childlike fun side of Appalachia. I feel like most of the time when you see like art that has to do with Appalachia, it's more just like this stereotypical things and mine's just kind of like a fun take on just like a different side of it. A reception for the exhibit will be held on April 20th at 5 p.m. For more information, you can visit the AppCycled Facebook page. For Mountain Top News, I'm Kelsey Dean.


Hello everyone. I'd like to begin by thanking our host, Prime Minister Modi, for the warm welcome he has extended to our team and to the entire delegation. As many of you know, the Prime Minister and I have met many times prior to this visit, from the COP 21 Environmental Conference in Paris to several G20 meetings to the Nuclear Security Summit in Washington and just a few weeks ago on the sidelines of the World Economic Forum in Davos, Switzerland. After all, we share not only a rich history, but a set of values that encourages a natural friendship between our two countries. Prime Minister Modi, it is such a pleasure and a privilege to finally be with you here in India, and I look forward to continued partnership for the years to come. I'm glad to say that we just wrapped up a productive meeting, during which we discussed issues of mutual interest in the future of the Canada-India partnership. As you saw from the Prime Minister's words, many topics were on the agenda this morning, and instead of repeating all of them, I'd like to focus on three specific areas. First, we talked about how we can work together to create growth in a way that benefits Indians and Canadians alike. India is one of the fastest growing economies in the world. The country has consolidated its position as an economic power and world film leader in the fields of innovation and technology, to name a few. We are lucky to deepen our partnership and realize the unexploited potential of our commercial links while strengthening women's autonomy. This week, we made a big step in the right direction when I announced $1 billion of investment between Canada and India, which will lead to almost 6,000 good jobs for Canadians. Earlier this week, we took a major step in strengthening our economic relationship when I announced $1 billion in two-way investments between Canada and India, which will create 5,800 good middle-class jobs back home in Canada. Now this is great news for both Canadians and Indians. Whether it's a Canadian firm exporting to India or India's global companies creating jobs for Canadians, we all win. This is a vote of confidence from the Indian business community in the future of the Canada-India partnership. As Canada looks to diversify its own economy and looks for new opportunities to do business beyond its borders, India is a natural partner and a trusted friend for commercial cooperation. To this effect, Prime Minister Modi and I welcome the conclusion of and progress on cooperation agreements in areas such as civil nuclear science and technology, information technology, automotive sector cooperation, intellectual property, smart cities and customs enforcement. That said, a renewed economic partnership must create jobs and help families get ahead. As governments, we have the responsibility to set the right parameters for economic relationships to flourish in a way that benefits everyone, not just the wealthiest few. I know that Prime Minister Modi and I are united in that ambition. We have also decided to extend Canada-India's ministerial dialogue in terms of energy to all energy sectors that could facilitate access to clean energy in view of the fourth meeting that will take place this autumn in Canada. Let's be clear, climate change represents the greatest challenge of our time. Canada and India are not only in a position to act, we can lead the charge on the international scene. We remain firmly determined to set the Paris Agreement in its integrity so that our children and our children can benefit from everything our world will have to offer them and this for generations. Lastly, we discussed deepening and strengthening people-to-people ties. Canada is home to more than 1.3 million people of Indian descent. India and Canada are united not only by their common ambition to create more opportunities for people to get ahead, but by a shared set of values. Values like respect for the democratic tradition, pluralism, and diversity. But while our history is something we can all be proud of, I am most inspired by the prospect of our shared future. The youths of Canada and India are growing closer every day and that gives me great hope in what we will be able to achieve in the years to come. Last year, about 125,000 Indian students chose to pursue their studies in Canada, making India the second largest source of international students for Canada's universities, colleges, and schools, and we expect this record number to keep growing in 2018. I am pleased with the important progress we've made on issues of mutual interest during our meetings. Once again, I want to thank our host, my colleague, Prime Minister Narendra Modi, for his hospitality, and of course, thank you all again for joining us today.