This evening a council of war has been held on board the “Fram.” An announcement has arrived from the Norwegian Luftseiladsforeningen that they are planning a reconnoitering expedition. Two naval hydroplanes are to be sent north to help in the patroling of the ice borders. Captain Hagerup, First Lieutenant Horgen, Shipper Johansen, and First Mate Astrup Holm are to send word at once if such machines will be of any use. To give an answer of this kind is difficult, for the ice this year lies with a broad belt of drifting ice screwing in shoals in front of the solid ice border. Thus the hydroplanes could not negotiate this obstacle to any great distance. Should they themselves have to make a forced landing any distance from the open sea, both they and their crews would be lost. On the other hand, they would be able to fly over the entire area of the fairway north of Spitzbergen in a few hours, a distance which it would take several days for ships to cruise over, and thus they would make the patroling much more effective. Our answer was based on this latter consideration. To-day it is _eight_ days since they started, and we enter a new phase in our waiting time. Until to-day none of us have gone far away from the ships. The American journalist, James B. Wharton, who is with us, the film photographer, Paul Berge, and I had not set our feet out of the ship. We have always waited in the expectation of seeing the machines at any moment appear from behind Amsterdamöen. We have lain fully clad on our mattresses, ready to set the wireless working broadcasting the news. Berge’s film camera has stood on its three legs on the bridge ready to turn out hundreds of yards of film. We have always kept a boat ready at “Fram’s” side so that we could row across to the flying machines the moment they landed, and every night before we went to rest we instructed the watchman on deck that he must waken us the first moment he heard anything. But this evening as the telegraph station from the coast asked if they should keep open all night with extra supervision, I had answered that it was no longer necessary. As these words were broadcast from the little wireless compartment, it seemed as though we had sent a telegram to a waiting world that showed them that _even we_ had begun to doubt. The same doubt is felt now by almost every one on the two boats. The possibility of seeing them come flying back is gradually diminishing. We still believe, but to-morrow our confidence will be less. We feel that on the 9th day from the start we shall give up hope. To-day it is decided that to-morrow “Fram” shall go down to Ny-Aalesund, partly for coaling reasons, partly to take away those members of the expedition who wish to take advantage of the opportunity to go down to Advent Bay, whence a coal steamer can carry them to Norway. When we shall see our comrades carried southwards while we are left behind, we shall enter into an anxious period of waiting which will seem unending.