1915] THE WINTER OF 1915-16 199 



abandoned fledglings undoubtedly perish and are often 

 found dead along the ice-foot and in the fresh-water 

 ponds. 



Cape Alexander, just half-way between the Arctic 

 Circle and the Pole, was before me. It was never ap- 

 proached in a small boat without a certain apprehension, 

 because of the extreme uncertainty of the weather con- 

 ditions. Skies may be blue and waters on either side of 

 the cape like a mirror, but at the end there is generally 

 a devil's dance! Eskimos in view of the cape daily 

 look to it for a prophecy of the day. Seated in a little 

 skin boat, twenty inches wide and nine inches deep, 

 wind is what the native fears; and this is foretold by 

 a white cloud hanging low upon the summit — an unfail- 

 ing sign. This cloud is undoubtedly due to the sudden 

 condensation of the comparatively warm, moisture- 

 laden air of this vicinity (the stretch of open water has 

 a temperature of 29.2° F. above, both winter and sum- 

 mer) brought about by the downward rush of cold air 

 from the Greenland ice-cap. "The cape has her white 

 cap on to-day," was always an excellent reason for 

 hugging the shore in the day's hunting. 



In the dark no cap was visible. A slight chop at the 

 very tip of the cape gave evidence that all was not well 

 to the north. A few heavy squalls as I rounded cau- 

 tioned me to follow the shore and not strike across for 

 the Crystal Palace Cliffs, four miles away. Swiftly the 

 little punt raced on into a dense fog with a rapidly in- 

 creasing and following wind and sea. The faint dawn 

 now disclosed a dark mass in the mist, which, to my dis- 

 gust, proved to be the wave-washed face of the Crystal 

 Palace Glacier, informing me that I was well off my 

 course. Past experience, when sledging, with ever 



