happens, there is a danger, not only of running over the dogs, but of
colliding with the sledge in front and smashing it. This was all the
more important in our case, as the sledges carried sledge-meters. We
therefore put brakes of rope under our runners when we were to go
downhill. This was done very simply by taking a few turns with a thin
piece of rope round each runner; the more of these turns one took,
the more powerful, of course, was the brake. The art consisted in
choosing the right number of turns, or the right brake; this was not
always attained, and the consequence was that, before we had come
to the end of these descents, there were several collisions. One
of the drivers, in particular, seemed to have a supreme contempt
for a proper brake; he would rush down like a flash of lightning,
and carry the man in front with him. With practice we avoided this,
but several times things had an ugly look.

The first drop took us down 800 feet; then we had to cross a wide,
stiff piece of valley before the ascent began again. The snow between
the mountains was loose and deep, and gave the dogs hard work. The next
ascent was up very steep glaciers, the last of which was the steepest
bit of climbing we had on the whole journey -- stiff work even for
double teams. Going in front of the dogs up these slopes was, I could
see, a business that Bjaaland would accomplish far more satisfactorily
than I, and I gave up the place to him. The first glacier was steep,
but the second was like the side of a house. It was a pleasure to watch
Bjaaland use his ski up there; one could see that he had been up a hill
before. Nor was it less interesting to see the dogs and the drivers go
up. Hanssen drove one sledge alone; Wisting and Hassel the other. They
went by jerks, foot by foot, and ended by reaching the top. The second
relay went somewhat more easily in the tracks made by the first.