CLAVEKING ISLAND. 361 



freezes — the dampness of clothes and covering thus 

 augmenting daily. 



The satisfying of thirst (that great torment of Arctic 

 sledge journeys) by melted ice, and the preparation of the 

 evening meal — cocoa or coffee, with a little bread and 

 bacon — had occupied the spirit-lamp three-quarters of 

 an hour, causing an atmosphere most trying to the 

 eyes, and, from its daily recurrence, creating perfect 

 torture. 



The evening meal over (not one would give it up 

 for all the treasures of the world), we took a short siesta, 

 the only pleasant time* of the day. We smoke- — the 

 sailors that dreadful shrub called " Camel' s-hair." The 

 day's events, new discoveries, as well as possible even- 

 tualities, are discussed; the day-book is closed, and 

 those suffering from dysentery take some opium. Then 

 from a locked tin box is taken a bottle of rum or brandy, 

 from which we each have two or three spoonfuls. For a 

 few minutes conversation brightens, then the pipe is 

 emptied, and we bury ourselves in our sleeping- 

 sack. 



About nine o'clock on the 30th of October we found 

 ourselves ready to start again. We bent our steps west- 

 ward into the cell-like windings of the Sound, wliich, 

 from its grand scenery, we named the " Tiroler Fjord," 

 the breadth of which was at first seven nautical miles, but 

 narrowed suddenly to one nautical mile and a half. 

 Numerous cliffs and close-lying ice-fields here caused us 

 much hindrance. 



A large promontory of Clavering Island, somewhat 

 resembling the "Eiger" in Switzerland, the steep wall 

 of which fell sheer into the Fjord, was our next aim ; 



