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Updated: May 5, 2025
Down on the level I met Hanssen on his way to the depot a second time; he looked extremely angry, and the way in which he used the whip did not promise well for the dogs' backs. Zanko was now harnessed in the team. On my return to Framheim I saw no one, so I slipped into the pent-house, and waited for an opportunity of getting into the kitchen. This was not long in coming.
On March 10 we took the road for home. I had divided my dogs between Wisting and Hanssen, but they got no assistance from these bags of bones, only trouble. The other three teams had held out well. There was hardly anything wrong to be seen with Hanssen's. Wisting's team was looked upon as the strongest, but his dogs had got very thin; however, they did their work well.
"Now you must make yourself small and follow me; we are going to visit Hanssen and Wisting." And my companion disappeared like a snake into the hole. I threw myself down, quick as lightning, and followed. I would not have cared to be left alone there in pitch-darkness. I managed to get hold of one of his calves, and did not let go until I saw light on the other side.
We knew that an enormous amount of weight could be saved, but how much? Hanssen and Wisting had to lash together the different parts as they were finished; this was to be done in the Clothing Store. These two had also a number of other things on their programme for the winter. There are many who think that a Polar expedition is synonymous with idleness.
"If you dare risk your whip, come on." He had taken down one of the insulted triple-handled whips from the shelf in his bunk, and stood in a fighting attitude. This promised well. We all looked at Hanssen. He had gone too far to be able to draw back; he had to fight. He took his weapon in his hand, and entered the "ring."
Suddenly Hanssen sang out that he saw something funny in front what it was he did not know. When that was the case, we had to apply to the one who saw even better than Hanssen, and that was my glass. Up with the glass, then the good old glass that has served me for so many years. Yes, there was certainly something curious.
Hanssen did not take long to make up his mind, but what was the use? He went as fast as he could, no doubt, but had reached no farther than to the flagstaff, when the dogs, with the capsized sledge behind them, ran into Framheim and were stopped there. I went quietly back, well pleased with the additional experience.
A march of two miles from their camp took them to the tent, in which they found a record of five Norwegians having been there: 'Roald Amundsen Olav Olavson Bjaaland Hilmer Hanssen Sverre H. Hassel Oscar Wisting. 16 Dec. 1911. 'The tent is fine a small compact affair supported by a single bamboo. A note from Amundsen, which I keep, asks me to forward a letter to King Haakon!
As usual, this was done with all possible care. Three strong lashings were put on each handle, and these again were covered with leather. Personally, Hanssen was not in favour of the triple hickory handle, but he did the work without raising any objection. We all remarked, it is true, that at this time, contrary to his habit, he spent the hours after supper with Wisting.
The numbers and marks on the cases were easily visible. Hanssen drew up smartly by the rows of cases and halted. We stepped off the sledge. He stood still for a moment and looked round, then turned the sledge over, with the runners in the air. I supposed he did this to prevent the dogs making off when his back was turned; personally, I thought it was a poor safeguard.
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