DAT AND NIGHT. 808 



good fortune advisedly, because the eagle is so wary that 

 few sportsmen succeed in killing one. and those who do 

 have more cause to be thankful for their luck than proud 



fi 



of their prowess. It happened thus : About two o'clock 

 one beautful morning in July I lay wide awake in my 

 berth, looking up through the skylight at the bright blue 

 heavens ; the yacht being becalmed somewhere between 

 latitudes 64 and 65, and the sun having commenced 

 to ascend the vault from which it had disappeared for 

 only half an hour. 



On that night if I may be permitted the inappropriate 

 expression I could not sleep. I counted the hours as 

 they passed slowly by; practised without success the 

 various little devices that are erroneously supposed to 

 bring slumber to the sleepless ; grew desperate, and 

 finally jumped up at four a.m., resolving to row myself 

 to the nearest island and shoot. There were usually 

 eider ducks in the little creeks, and ptarmigan among the 

 scrub. Should these fail me I could vent my spleen on 

 the gulls. 



Arming myself with a double-barrel, I quaffed a tumbler 

 of water and sallied forth, ignorant of the fact that it con- 

 tained a large dose of morphia, which had been prescribed 

 for an ailing but refractory member of our party the pre- 

 vious evening. No one was stirring. It was a dead 

 calm. 



Landing on a lovely island, of perbaps five or six milet 

 In extent, which rose in the form of a rugged mountain 

 to a height of about 4,000 feet, I rambled for son* 



