The side of the pass was formed by two gigantic icebergs which would have to be more than half cut down before the wings could pass over and the great ditch had to be filled up with ton after ton of snow. But the 7th of June is a good day to work for homesick folk. The knives are driven with greater certainty, the axes swung with greater power, and in a remarkably short time the ice giants dwindled to dwarfs. We experienced a very exciting episode on this occasion. While Riiser-Larsen drove the machine over the snow glacier Dietrichson went past and did not get out of the way. At the last moment he threw himself down flat on the ground and the tail-skid passed so near to him that I could not see daylight between. It was in the words’ fullest meaning a narrow escape. “I saw you all right,” remarked the pilot later. “But I could not stop in the middle of the bridge.” That his words were true was proved by looking back and noting that the bridge was no longer there. It was a delightful feeling to sit on a “flynder” and rush across the snow plains. It was not often we got the satisfaction, as we usually had to stand by ready to push or haul the machine over the snow. But this intermediate plain was hard and the pilot could manage to steer with the wheel. And thus we stood before the last ditch which had to be filled and leveled. It took us six hours before it was finished and the machine landed in safety on the big plain. It had been thawing the whole day and was uncomfortably warm for working, but one could always throw some clothes off. We were not so particular about our appearance.