as far as we were able to see; we had gone about five and a half
miles from the tent, and ascended 2,000 feet. On the way back we went
gloriously; the last two slopes down to the Barrier gave us all the
speed we wanted. Bjaaland and I had decided to take a turn round by
Mount Betty for the sake of having real bare ground under our feet;
we had not felt it since Madeira in September, 1910, and now we were
in November, 1911. No sooner said than done. Bjaaland 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 Bjaaland; 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 learnt. No doubt 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 crags or deep precipices to
stimulate our desire for climbing; we only had to take off our ski,
and then we arrived at the top. It consisted of loose screes, 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