216 SPITSBERGEN chap, xv 



on debris slopes. Little waves came tumbling in rapid 

 succession on the fallen blocks of hyperite and the fine 

 debris of black shales that lay between the low shale cliffs 

 and the water. Overhanging ice-masses still clung to these 

 cliffs, all undercut through their whole depth of twenty 

 feet or so, and merely clinging to the cliffs by sheer adhesion. 

 Water flowing from the gullies was discharged through ice- 

 tunnels that invited one to enter their dark twisting recesses. 

 At one place a fulmar petrel, apparently injured, flopped 

 along the ground at my feet so that I could touch it. It 

 made its way into the sea and swam leisurely, about two 

 or three yards from shore, and quite unconcerned at my 

 presence. There were lumps of clear drifted ice on the 

 beach. Near camp the hyperite blocks became so numerous 

 that it was necessary to step from one to another, and 

 walking grew wearisome, as it always becomes when the 

 eyes have to be fixed on the ground. Arrival in camp was 

 therefore a relief. I had only been absent five hours, but 

 lonely tramps always seem long. This walk, however, had 

 not been unprofitable, for it enabled me to fill a blank of 

 twelve square miles on the map. The vacant space between 

 Advent Vale and the sea was rapidly diminishing. One 

 day with a boat would cause it to disappear. Before turning 

 in we again scanned the horizon with a glass, but there was 

 no sail. "To-morrow," we said, "they will assuredly come 

 and fetch us." 



