chap, in TO SPITSBERGEN 43 



water-rolled pebbles covered in places with springy vegeta- 

 tion, and already flushed with pink saxifrages (Oppositifolia) 

 lovely to behold. Gregory went to work, smashing things 

 with his hammer and rilling his vasculum with plants. We 

 tramped across the flat, for the most part over snow, and 

 climbed a slope eastward to the lowest crest of the long 

 ridge that forms the east bank of the Russian valley. 

 From the top a view over the whole of Ice Fjord burst 

 upon our delighted gaze. Green Harbour's mouth was 

 close at hand with only broken ice before it, but beyond 

 came the pack blocking Advent Bay and all the remoter 

 fjords. Sassen Bay, Klaas Billen Bay, Dickson's Sound, 

 Safe Haven — we could see them all, and brilliant mountains 

 behind them, here peaked and beridged, there rising as by 

 steps to broad flat levels, but all alike — peaks and valleys — 

 bright with a deep covering of purest snow. This splendid 

 ring of white enframed the great fjord, which too was for 

 the most part white, but blue near at hand, dotted over 

 with ice-blocks, and so calm that the hills were reflected 

 in it, and lay amongst the floes. 



From this point of view the ice-master gained the in- 

 formation he needed about the state of the ice and was 

 able to make his plans. He unfortunately, with a sailor's 

 strange secretiveness, kept them to himself, so that we 

 were unable to use the interval to best advantage. While 

 Gregory and I were on the carboniferous ridge, Trevor- 

 Battye searched the level shore and swamps within for 

 birds, and Ted sketched the snow-cornice overhanging the 

 sea. A gay breeze carried us back to the ship with birds 

 flying round and little waves following and laughing as 

 they fell back and gave up the race. Garwood did not 

 come on shore with the first boat but followed a little later. 

 What he was doing no one knew, nor where he was, but he 

 shall tell the story of his adventures in his own words. 



