NORTH POLE OF THE WINDS 



is now good and we do not have to fear the com- 

 ing of night and darkness. As soon as our sleeping 

 tents have been pitched and our bedding placed 

 ready, we start to get out the cooking utensils and 

 prepare supper, for all are very hungry after the 

 arduous work of landing the stores. The boxes 

 containing our kitchen and tableware are nowhere 

 to be found, but it is only after a thorough search 

 that we are compelled to admit that they must have 

 been carried off on the Morrissey. While this is 

 not a misfortune of major proportions it is none 

 the less a very serious handicap. Something we 

 must have to take the place of spoons, and after 

 search along the shore some small mussel shells 

 are found and not without scorched fingers each 

 of us dips his shell into the soup pot (a large jam 

 can) after the manner of primitive peoples. This 

 makeshift for spoons is necessary for the first few 

 meals only, for our expert instrument-maker and 

 handy-man, Fergusson, gets out his drill and pre- 

 pares wooden handles for the mussel shells. As 

 soon as there are empty cans he fashions from the 

 corners of square cans a scoop type of spoon with 

 handles of twisted wire taken from the replacement 

 stores of the radio outfit. From the same wire forks 

 are fashioned, and our sheath knives serve us as 

 table knives. 



26 



