Early the next day we prepared to make ready. Everything must be in good order. Everything must have its place and be properly secured. When we rise nothing must be faulty. By 2:15 P.M. the engine was warm and ready to start. Riiser-Larsen was in the pilot’s seat, Feucht beside the motor. We four others stood by, ready to either push off or haul in the seaplane just as circumstances demanded. Here began a new task--to maneuver the seaplane amidst deep loose snow. When I call this work wearisome I think I have used the right term. While at first the work was particularly heavy, later, when we had had more practice, it was easier, but the whole time it was “weary.” Our first attempt was unsuccessful as the thin ice could not carry us. We broke through almost at once, breaking the ice on the greater part of the area. The track was about 500 yards long ending in old screw ice. As we had neared the end of this we turned the machine round preparatory to starting in the opposite direction in the pool which we had broken up. But, as it is said, “the traveler meets many obstacles,” and I think this applies particularly to any one who lands with a flying machine amidst the Polar ice. Hardly had we swung the seaplane round than thick fog descended like a wall. We could scarcely see from fore to aft, far less think of flying through the fog at a speed of 110 kilometers. “Therefore, my friend, cover yourself with patience,--the explorer’s indispensable salve.” We arranged to watch and to sleep--it was ten o’clock.