86 THROUGH THE MOUNTAINS 



grapple with the kind of ground we had before us; a 

 slight mistake might be enough to send both sledge and 

 dogs with lightning rapidity into the next world. It 

 took, nevertheless, a remarkably short time to cover the 

 distance we had explored on the previous evening; 

 before we knew it, we were at Hell's Gate. 



Bjaaland took an excellent photograph here, which 

 gives a very good idea of the difficulties this part of the 

 journey presented. In the foreground, below the high 

 snow-ridge that forms one side of a very wide but partly 

 filled-up crevasse, the marks of ski can be seen in the 

 snow. This was the photographer, who, in passing over 

 this snow -bridge, struck his ski into it to try the strength 

 of the support. Close to the tracks can be seen an open 

 piece of the crevasse; it is a pale blue at the top, but 

 ends in the deepest black — in a bottomless abyss. The 

 photographer got over the bridge and back with a whole 

 skin, but there could be no question of risking sledges 

 and dogs on it, and it can be seen in the photograph 

 that the sledges have been turned right around to try 

 another way. The two small black figures in the 

 distance, on the right, are Hassel and I, who are 

 reconnoitring ahead. 



It was no very great distance that we put behind us 

 that day — nine and a quarter miles in a straight line. 

 But, taking into account all the turns and circuits we 

 had been compelled to make, it was not so short after 

 all. We set our tent on a good, solid foundation, and 



