north-east 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
last glance over the camping-ground to see whether anything was
forgotten, and then into the blizzard. It was really vile 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. Bjaaland was next in front of us. 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 over crevasses,
but none of any size. Suddenly we saw Bjaaland'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
altogether. Bjaaland had got a good purchase in the snow, and the
dogs lay down and dug their claws in. The sledge sank more and more --
all this happened in a few moments.

"Now I can't hold it any longer." We -- Wisting and I -- had just come
up. He was holding on convulsively, and resisting 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; stretched out
in the snow, they dug their claws in, and resisted with all their
strength. But still, inch by inch, slowly and surely, it went down
into the abyss. Bjaaland was right enough when he said he couldn't
hold on any longer. A few seconds more, and his sledge and thirteen
dogs would never have seen the light of day again. Help came at the
last moment. Hanssen and Hassel, 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