



LOOKING SOUTH-FAST FROM THE TRIDENT. 



CHAPTER X 



THE TRIDENT 



THE rare spell of fine weather was in fact at an end, 

 and the mist when it rose formed into higher clouds 

 which hid sun and peaks from valley floors. This mattered 

 the less, as we had work in hand which seemed to require no 

 distant prospect. Camp had to be moved across the Esker 

 Stream, and the things Trevor-Battye had been forced to 

 drop on his upward way must be fetched in. 



At eight P.M. (July 8) we settled down to our respective 

 tasks, after a lengthy argument as to whether it was really 

 eight p.m. or eight a.m., and whether it was to-day, yesterday, 

 or to-morrow, so confusing does the lack of night become, 

 especially when the sun goes behind a roof of cloud, and 

 one cannot reckon, after the fashion of sailors in these 



