382 THE END OF THE WINTER 



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. At 1.30 p.m. we were 

 off. 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 kilometre on the last depot 

 journey. The going was splendid, and we went at a 

 rattling pace to 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 round, 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 had 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 10th they seemed to have reached their full 

 vigour; 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 them- 

 selves out to no purpose, and, of course, the time spent 



