1 48 SPITSBERGEN chap, x 



sing like the strings of an ^Eolian harp. At first we doubted 

 whether the ropes would hold, but confidence grew with 

 experience. All the while the sun was hot, far too hot 

 for comfort in fur sleeping-bags. Light, heat, and noise 

 kept slumber long away, and made our waking corre- 

 spondingly late. 



Next day Gregory was expected from Advent Bay, but 

 we doubted his being able to bring round the boat in the 

 gale that continued to blow. So, fired by Garwood's de- 

 scription of the interest of the view from the Trident's crest, 

 I set off with him to climb the central point of the three 

 ridges, whose precipitous north front falls to the Sassendal. 

 We mounted along the side, of the valley, turned up a gorge 

 filled by a gentle snow-couloir, between the west and central 

 prongs of the Trident, and climbed to the col at its head, 

 whence an easy ridge led to the top (1990 feet). For a time 

 we left the gale behind, and could hear it tearing over the 

 crags below, but when the plane-table was set up, the tempta- 

 tion was too strong to be resisted, and up came the wind 

 to spoil our pleasure. Not that there was much fun this 

 day for Garwood ; he was suffering tortures from neuralgia, 

 which he bore with heroic fortitude. 



Here at last we had a thoroughly intelligible and wide- 

 extending view, full of most valuable information, which 

 cleared up all manner of topographical puzzles. Bunting 

 Bluff and the other bluffs west of Advent Vale were all in 

 sight with their upper prolongations and high snows. We 

 could see almost down to Bolter Camp. Fox Peak was 

 hidden, but this was the only loss. More important than 

 these points, the correct position of which on my map I was 

 almost as much surprised as delighted to verify, was the 

 area to the south and east that lay open below. With our 

 backs upon the Sassendal, we had before us a long slope 

 and an undulating country below it, the form of whose sur- 



