CHAPTER XIV 



WATERFALL CAMP TO ICE FJORD 



IT was pleasant to awake amidst familiar surroundings 

 (July 20), and find ourselves at a kind of home ; pleasant 

 too to be greeted by promising weather, with occasional 

 sunshine and breaking clouds. The blue days of Waterfall 

 Camp were come again to greet our return ; indeed this was 

 the brightest blue day of them all. With the advancing hours, 

 tones became ever more lovely, more transparent and rich, 

 more indescribably ethereal, so that, where deepest shadows 

 lay, I the substance behind them seemed most insubstantial. 

 A quiet morning's work in camp resulted in the patching of 

 the sledges, and the division and packing of all the baggage 

 and geological specimens here hoarded during our eastward 

 rush. Gregory was carpenter ; his friends would have 

 laughed to see him perspiring in the sunshine; with coat off, 

 sleeves rolled up, and a tropical pith helmet on his head. 

 How so unusual an object found its way to this spot I cannot 

 say ; it now appeared for the first time and suddenly, yet a 

 pith helmet is not a thing a man can carry around concealed 

 in his watch pocket. I asked for no explanation, preferring 

 a world wherein mysteries survive to all possible worlds where 

 everything is accounted for. 



At two in the afternoon Gregory and I went off with 

 two heavily-laden sledges for Sassen Bay, leaving Garwood 

 behind to await Williamson's return with the ponies, which 

 he was to convoy back to Advent Bay by Brent Pass. 

 There was plenty of work for Garwood to do meanwhile, 



