Sonntag is all ready to start. He will take two sledges, with Jensen and Hans for drivers. They are prepared for seven days' absence. I have allowed Sonntag to provide his own equipment, without interference. He has, I think, made it a little more cumbrous than he should,--a little too much for personal comfort, that will be dead weight. Traveling in this region is governed by very rigorous laws, and very little latitude is allowed in the choice of one's outfit. There is probably no place in the world where the traveler is compelled to deny himself so completely those little articles of convenience which contribute so much to the personal satisfaction. On ship-board he may indulge his taste for luxury to the extent of his means; but when he takes to the ice-fields and the dog-sledge he must come down to hard fare and carry nothing but what is absolutely necessary to sustain life,--and this is simply meat, bread, and coffee, or tea if he prefers it. The snow must serve for his bed, and his only covering must be what is just sufficient to keep him from freezing. Fire he cannot have, except the needful lamp to cook his food, and if he should get cold he must warm himself by exercise. During my late journey to the glacier, I carried for fuel only three quarts of alcohol and the same quantity of oil, and this was not all used. [Sidenote: FROST-BITES.] I went this morning into the hold to look after my companions on the recent journey. They have all recovered from their little frost-bites except Christian, whose nose is as big as his fist and as red as a beet. He takes good-naturedly the jeers of his messmates. Knorr is, however, almost as badly off in the nasal region as Christian, but he has suffered no further misadventure. The nose is, indeed, a serious inconvenience to the Arctic traveler, for it insists upon exposing itself upon every occasion; and if you put it under a mask, it revenges itself by coaxing the moisture of the breath up beneath it, so that in an hour's time the intended protector becomes a worse enemy than the wind itself. The mask is, in a little while, but a lump of ice. [Sidenote: KNORR AND STARR.]