120 AT THE POLE 



remember as a little boy on the night before Christmas 

 Eve — an intense expectation of what was going to 

 happen. Otherwise I think we slept just as well that 

 night as any other. 



On the morning of December 14 the weather was of 

 the finest, just as if it had been made for arriving at the 

 Pole. I am not quite sure, but I beheve we despatched 

 our breakfast rather more quickly than usual and were out 

 of the tent sooner, though I must admit that we always 

 accomplished this with all reasonable haste. We went 

 in the usual order — the forerunner, Hanssen, Wisting, 

 Bjaaland, and the reserve forerunner. By noon we had 

 reached 89 "" 53' by dead reckoning, and made ready to 

 take the rest in one stage. At 10 a.m. a light breeze 

 had sprung up from the south-east, and it had clouded 

 over, so that we got no noon altitude; but the clouds 

 were not thick, and from time to time we had a glimpse 

 of the sun through them. The going on that day was 

 rather different from what it had been; sometimes the 

 ski went over it well, but at others it was pretty bad. 

 We advanced that day in the same mechanical way as 

 before; not much was said, but eyes were used all the 

 more. Hanssen's neck grew twice as long as before 

 in his endeavour to see a few inches farther. I had 

 asked liim before we started to spy out ahead for all he 

 was worth, and he did so with a vengeance. But, how- 

 ever keenly he stared, he could not descry anything but 

 the endless flat plain ahead of us. The dogs had dropped 



