During the long night the plans for the sledge expeditions to the North, which had been so effectively interrupted by the nipping of the ship, were further considered. As the original scheme could no longer be carried out, a modified plan was adopted. Under this, it was determined to send out three parties, which were to start about the middle of February and press forward towards the Pole. Each party was to consist of three Italians. One was to carry provisions for thirty days, the second for sixty days, and the third for ninety days. The second and third parties were to carry kayaks.

At the commencement of the expedition it was intended that the Duke of Abruzzi should lead the detachments as the head of the third party, the one which would have the honour of proceeding the longest way; but early in January he had two fingers of his right hand frost-bitten so severely that the two top joints had to be amputated. This debarred him from taking his place at the head of the enterprise, and he appointed Captain Cagni to the lead in his stead. As at first arranged, the other parties were commanded, the first by Dr. Cavalli, and the second by Lieutenant Querini. A fourth party was to follow the other three for a couple of days, as an auxiliary, so as to allow of a saving in the consumption of provisions carried by the others. It was also arranged that twenty-five days after the start of the expedition, those of the company who remained behind at Teplitz Bay should send a watch party to Cape Fligely, in order to be ready to set out and meet, and, if necessary, render any assistance which the returning members of the first detachment might require. From the top of Cape Fligely a distance of eight miles could be seen over the ice to the north, and a signal-post, erected on the cape, would be visible as a guide to the returning explorers as they approached over the ice. The watch party was to be on the cape again fifty-five days after the departure of the second detachment, and eighty-five days after the departure of the third detachment.

The date of departure was ultimately fixed for the 19th of February. The detachments, when ready to start, numbered, in all, twelve men, with thirteen sledges, drawn by 104 dogs, each sledge weighing, with its load of provisions, 617 lbs. The weather, at the time of the start, was intensely cold, there having been a gale blowing for some days before. When all was ready for the march to begin, the detachments set out, after hearty farewells from those who remained behind, and who watched them slowly pass out of sight over the ice and into the cold mysteries of the white region lying towards the north.

The camp at Teplitz Bay was strangely quiet after their departure, the absence of the dogs, no less than the absence of the men, rendering the place lonely and deserted. It was not expected that the auxiliary detachment would be back again for some days, and it was with very great surprise that the Duke of Abruzzi, while walking near the hut one day, heard the sounds of dogs barking near at hand. He hastened in the direction whence the sounds came, and was astounded to see Lieutenant Querini coming towards him. Immediately he came to the conclusion that disaster had overtaken the expedition soon after starting, and that the lieutenant was the bearer of ill news, if not the only survivor of the detachments. The facts were, however, not quite so bad as this. What had happened was that the cold had become so intense, after leaving Cape Fligely, that not only the men, but the dogs also, suffered severely, and were almost incapacitated. The experience of a few days revealed many points where improvement could be made in the arrangement of the sledges and their loading, and the commander, realising that only valuable time would be lost, and perhaps the entire expedition jeopardised, by pushing on under the circumstances, decided to return to the main camp, so as to overhaul the arrangements, and reorganise the detachments in the light of their experiences.

By the time the detachments were again ready to start, February had passed and March 10 had arrived. The loss of time, consequent on their return, necessitated an alteration in the programme of all the parties, and when they set out the second time the order of march was for the first detachment to return after twelve days' march, the second in twenty-four, and the third in thirty-six. The detachments were also varied, so that the main detachment should number four instead of three men. A Norwegian, the engineer of the ship, was included in the first detachment at his earnest request.

The second start was made on Sunday, March 11, and this time there was no turning back. On March 28 the Duke of Abruzzi went, with the watch party, to Cape Fligely, and constructed a shelter wherein to remain in readiness to greet the first detachment on their return, the date of which was expected to be April 4. On that date, and for some days before, an anxious watch was kept from the lookout point towards the north, but no signs were seen of the returning explorers. For a day or so this did not cause any grave anxiety, as it was quite possible that there might be a brief delay, but as the days went by without a sign, and the days grew into weeks, there was serious uneasiness at the continued non-appearance of the men. The time arrived when the second detachment was due, and still the watchers saw no signs of the returning men. Uneasiness gave place to grave anxiety, and the few who remained at the camp were beginning to wonder whether they alone would return home, with the summer, with only a tale of loss and disaster to bear to their country, when a man of the second party reached the camp in a state of great exhaustion. His story was that his detachment, the second, had parted with the third on March 31, and had successfully negotiated the return journey up to April 15, when an open channel in the ice near the island had stopped their forward march. For days they had sought a way round it, but, failing, the leader had despatched the man in the kayak to reach the watch party, and summon assistance of a boat to convey the remainder over the channel. The man had attempted to land at a point where the ice was some fifteen feet high, but while he was testing it to see if he could clamber up, the kayak slipped away from him and left him clinging, with no hope of escape if he slipped into the water below. He was one of the Alpine guides, and, with his ice-axe, he managed to cut a way up the ice to the summit, though the struggle was a terrible strain on his strength and skill. When, at last, he reached the summit, he was met with a new difficulty. He did not know where he was, nor in which direction the camp lay. He was without food, or refreshment, but he made his way to a higher point, from whence he was, fortunately, able to see the top of the ship's masts showing over the ice. This gave him the direction of the camp at Teplitz Bay, and he made his way thither, with as much speed as he could. When he arrived, he had been battling his way for over twenty-four hours, from the time he lost his kayak, a feat of very great endurance.

In answer to anxious questions as to the first detachment, he said he and all the rest believed the first detachment was in the camp, for it had left the main body in time to reach Cape Fligely by April 2. At the time it started back, owing to the drift of the ice, the island could be distinctly seen, so that there could be no difficulty as to the men knowing which way to go. Moreover, a change had been made in the command, and the first detachment had left under the command of Lieutenant Querini, Dr. Cavalli having been placed at the head of the second detachment owing to his showing greater staying powers on the march than the lieutenant.

As soon as the rest of the detachment had been conveyed from the ice pack to the camp, Dr. Cavalli corroborated the story and shared, with the rest of the expedition, the anxiety at the non-arrival of the little band. His detachment, he said, had parted with the main party on 31st March, and had seen Captain Cagni and his companions continue their way to the north, with a train of six sledges and forty-eight dogs. The first detachment might, he suggested, have been carried away to the east, and, as they had no kayak with them, they might have been cut off by an open channel and so prevented from reaching the island. Relief parties were immediately sent out to search the ice in that direction, and also to see whether the men had taken refuge on the islands, further to the north-east, where Nansen and Johansen had passed their winter. The search was continued until May 10, when the parties returned, having searched far and wide but without finding any trace of the missing detachment. It was then hoped that they had made their way to Cape Flora, where there was an abundance of food and other necessaries, but when the Stella Polare touched there, on her way home, no signs were found of the missing men, and it was then realised that they were lost. How, or when, or where, they had met their end, no one could form any opinion. A break in the ice may have precipitated them into a channel; cold may have overcome them as they slept; moving hummocks may have overwhelmed them, or a sudden snow-storm may have caused them to lose their direction, and have led them into dangers they were not able to escape. When no trace could be found of them, and no vestige of their outfit discovered on the ice, or the islands, there was only one thing the survivors could realise, and that was that their comrades had gone out of the world in silence, in mystery, and in sacrifice to the knowledge of humanity.