more of it. But we could now unbend the sledge and do that for which
we should have aimed from the first, namely, run the sledge across the
gap and work from it. We managed to do this, our fingers constantly
numbed. Wilson held on to the anchored trace whilst the rest of us
laboured at the leader end. The leading rope was very small and I was
fearful of its breaking, so Meares was lowered down a foot or two to
secure the Alpine rope to the leading end of the trace; this done,
the work of rescue proceeded in better order. Two by two we hauled
the animals up to the sledge and one by one cut them out of their
harness. Strangely the last dogs were the most difficult, as they
were close under the lip of the gap, bound in by the snow-covered
rope. Finally, with a gasp we got the last poor creature on to firm
snow. We had recovered eleven of the thirteen._13a_

Then I wondered if the last two could not be got, and we paid down the
Alpine rope to see if it was long enough to reach the snow bridge on
which they were coiled. The rope is 90 feet, and the amount remaining
showed that the depth of the bridge was about 65 feet. I made a
bowline and the others lowered me down. The bridge was firm and I got
hold of both dogs, which were hauled up in turn to the surface. Then
I heard dim shouts and howls above. Some of the rescued animals had
wandered to the second sledge, and a big fight was in progress. All
my rope-tenders had to leave to separate the combatants; but they
soon returned, and with some effort I was hauled to the surface.

All is well that ends well, and certainly this was a most surprisingly
happy ending to a very serious episode. We felt we must have
refreshment, so camped and had a meal, congratulating ourselves on
a really miraculous escape. If the sledge had gone down Meares and
I _must_ have been badly injured, if not killed outright. The dogs