We remained standing as though suddenly realizing the difference in the work of those six on board the machines and ourselves. Till now we have all appeared to be actual members of the expedition. We have felt that there was no great difference in our desires to reach a common goal. We have lived under the same roof, fed in the same mess, have shared the same work, but now the others have gone, and we have become the land party again! The six ought to return after a few days’ absence and we should again be part of the expedition. But the few hours which have passed since 5:15 this afternoon have opened a tremendous gulf between us. The six may now be fighting for their very lives, while we hang around here exactly as we did yesterday, the day before, and every other day in the six weeks we have been in Ny-Aalesund. We have suddenly become superfluous! Until this afternoon we had tasks to perform, but from now we can only wait, just like all the rest of the world, for the six who have gone--and we know that we can give them no more help than any one else can. We have become passive. The humming of the motors can still be heard in our dreams; in fact the whole occurrence appears only as a dream. Could it have really been we who saw them off? We, who are now packing up and getting ready to go on board the “Fram” and the “Hobby,” which lie ready by the quay to set off northwards to Danskeöen. The landscape is unchanged. The sun still shines high in the light blue polar sky, making the glacier scintillate with lovely colors. But the six have gone! At the end of the fjord’s north side lies Cape Mitra--that pointed corner which is one of the best landmarks in the world. During the evening meal on board the “Fram” we talk of nothing but the start. We listen with pride to Schulte-Frohlinde’s praise regarding the pilots’ management of the two heavy machines. He says no one could have done it better, and we agree with him unanimously, although we don’t know the difference between a sporting and a bombarding machine. He has walked across the ice and examined the trails, and noted that the ice was broken into small pieces at the spot where Dietrichson stuck, and the same was the case in a 200–300 meter length along Riiser-Larsen’s track before he had been able to rise. The starting track was about 1,400 meters long, and Schulte-Frohlinde says that the trail gets less and less until towards its end it might only have been marked in the snow with one’s little finger.