DIGGING OUT THE TENT 257 



and with a heartfelt desire that Jorgen may win I await 

 the morrow. 



Thursday, December 7. — Early this morning I owned 

 to having lost my bet, as the weather, so far as I could 

 tell, was no longer of the same tempestuous character; 

 but Stubberud thought the contrary. " It seems to me 

 just as bad," said he. He was right enough, as a matter 

 of fact, but this did not prevent my persuading him to 

 accept payment. Meanwhile we were obliged to make 

 an attempt to dig out the tent, regardless of the weather ; 

 the situation was no longer endurable. We waited all 

 the forenoon in the hope of an improvement; but as 

 none came, we set to work at twelve o'clock. Our 

 implements showed some originality and diversity: a 

 little spade, a biscuit-tin, and a cooker. The drift did 

 its best to undo our work as fast as we dug, but we 

 managed to hold our own against it. Digging out the 

 tent-pegs gave most trouble. After six hours' hard 

 work we got the tent set up a few yards to windward of 

 its first position; the place where it had stood was now 

 a well about seven feet deep. Unfortunately there was 

 no chance of immortalizing this scene of excavation. It 

 would have been amusing enough to have it on the 

 plate; but drifting snow is a serious obstacle to an 

 amateur photographer — besides which, my camera was 

 on Stubberud's sledge, buried at least four feet down. 



In the course of our digging we had had the misfortune 

 to make two or three serious rents in the thin canvas of 



