8o SPITSBERGEN chap, v 



valuable but unattractive substance called Bovril Emergency 

 Food. It was so securely soldered up in a strong tin that, 

 on an emergency, it could not have been opened. We 

 smashed one side in, and cursed the man that packed it. 



The return journey was dull and depressing to all but 

 Spits. She rejoiced in the erroneous belief that she was 

 going home and to Bergen's company. The clouds were 

 no less dense than before. The mournful boggy slopes 

 seemed sadder and more deserted. The character of the 

 scenery is understood when it is perceived how the surfaces 

 of all the hillsides, softened by frost and wet, slowly flow 

 down, as bog glaciers, to lower levels. Thus all except 

 a small portion of what once was Advent Bay is now a 

 muddy plain, and this in turn is being overflowed by bog 

 accumulations along the foot of the hills. 



Bolter Camp was reached in less than three hours, 

 Spits quickening her pace at the end, and hurrying up to 

 the second sledge ; she looked round and neighed, but no 

 answer came, for Bergen was far away. After a brief halt 

 and a meal of lime-juice nodule and biscuit, the second start 

 was made. The way seemed longer, and Spits became worse 

 bogged than ever in deep snow slush. She was too fatigued 

 to extricate herself. Standing waist-deep in the green and 

 freezing compound, we had to dig her out with our hands. 

 The final pull up to Cairn Camp almost overtaxed her 

 powers, but when the goal came in view she made bravely 

 for it, and was rewarded on arrival to the best of our ability. 

 Unpacking and cooking occupied another two hours, and 

 then at last, about five a.m., we could turn in and enjoy the 

 soothing patter of rain upon the tent roof, almost the 

 sweetest music that can introduce slumber. 



