It was now ten minutes past five. The motors were quite warm and Green nodded approvingly. His smile expressed complete satisfaction. A last handshake from Director Knutsen and then good-by. The motor was running at top speed as N 25 trembled and shook. The plan was that our machine should make the first start and try if possible to start out over the fjord with the wind in order to glide and swing at a low altitude between the fjord boundaries. If this were not successful we were to set our course direct against the wind, towards King’s Bay Glacier. It was also agreed that the machines should try to keep together during the entire flight. What the one did the other should do afterwards. One last pull and then N 25 was free and glided gracefully down the slide on to the frozen fjord. The trip was started. “Welcome back to-morrow,” was the last I heard as with tremendous speed--1,800 revolutions a minute--it set off towards the starting place in the middle of the fjord. There we noticed all at once that the ice was bending right over and the water surging up. In a second the machine was across the fjord heading straight for the glacier and making 2,000 revolutions. This was one of the most anxious moments. Could the machine bear the tremendous excess weight or must we stop and lighten it? The pilot sat at the wheel. Had he been seated at the breakfast table he could scarcely have looked less concerned. As the speed still continued, and we were nearing the glacier at a mighty rate, the pilot’s coolness seemed greater than ever. His mouth was the only indication of his resolution and determination. We went over the ice like a hurricane. The speed continued and continued; then suddenly the miracle happened. With a mighty pull the machine raised itself from the earth. We were in the air. The master stroke was accomplished. It seemed to me after the breathless anxiety that I at last heard a light Ah! which grew into a ringing shout of joy. [Illustration: PHOTOGRAPH OF AMUNDSEN’S MACHINE TAKEN FROM ELLSWORTH’S WHILE IN FLIGHT, SHORTLY BEFORE LANDING AND WITHIN 250 MILES OF THE POLE] After this calmness again took possession of the man who had performed this master stroke, and it left him no more during the whole trip. Feucht was always going up and down between the tank compartment and the motor; his duty was to keep the pilot advised of everything: how the engine worked: how much petrol had been used, etc. All seemed in the finest order and Feucht announced, “All clear.” Before we rose I had tried to get my things in order as the space was limited and my belongings numerous.