The Oologists' Record, December i, 1922. 75 



bined, as it occasionally is, mth wet it forms a very serious handicap 

 to field work. Luckily precipitation is light except at certain 

 definite points, where cold and warm currents meet. Roads, of 

 course, are unknown, and the going may be tolerable, but is more 

 frequently execrable. Every river (and their name is legion) has 

 to be waded, and even if one's boots do not take in water at first, 

 sooner or later it is sure to find its way in over the tops. Wading 

 in marshy ground for hours together, especially in a biting wind, 

 is also an over-rated amusement. If an expedition is made to 

 any distance from one's base, besides the usual impedimenta in 

 the form of collecting-boxes, field-glasses, cameras and at times 

 ropes, ice-axes, etc., a sufficient supply of food must also be carried, 

 as generally there is no possibility of replenishing one's stores. 

 The innumerable glaciers form a very serious obstacle to a small 

 party attempting to follow the coastline, and even when working 

 from a ship there are manj^ places wheie the lack of anchorage 

 may render it necessary for her to seek shelter on a sudden change 

 of wind. Meantime a shore-going party may thus find themselves 

 completely isolated, perhaps for a day or two, and, unless a reserve 

 store of provisions and sleeping-kit has been taken, may be reduced 

 to great straits for a time. Navigation in the neighbourhood of 

 the pack requires the supervision of an ice-pilot, and also necessitates 

 a type of ship specially built to stand ice pressure, and the ordinary 

 iron ship would be quite useless under these conditions. In 

 working along little-known coasts where there is much ice there 

 is also the possibility of getting hemmed in by ice, and forced to 

 winter there — an experience few people would care to go through 

 without ample previous preparation. 



There is also a great tendency for the bird-life to be concentrated 

 in certain spots, and it is rather a depressing experience to walk 

 for miles up some wide valle3^ fairly free from snow and apparently 

 offering plenty of possible nesting sites, and yet scarcely to see a 

 bird of any kind, except perhaps the distant speck of white on 

 some scree which marks the presence of the ubiquitous Snow 

 Bunting, or a Purple Sandpiper, inconspicuoas and ijidiffcrent to 

 one's presence, quietly feeding among the lichen-covered stones. 



One point still remains to be mentioned — to my mind the 

 greatest attraction of the Arctic — the never-ending day. The 

 feeling that time has ceased, and that day and night are purely 

 arbitrary terms, combined with the exhilarating effect of the pure 



