Report of the First Thule Expedition 1912. 311 



even the big boulders, which can be so deceptive at times, lay still 

 wrapped in white. Only one object shows up black and round in 

 such a landscape; musk ox. 



We came upon fresh fox tracks not far from the tent, and this 

 gave us new hope that we were no great distance from the coast, as 

 the arctic fox is rarely found far inland, its best ground being down 

 close to the shore. We saw too, the slight, delicate impression made 

 by a lemming trotting over the snow; prints about the size of a spar- 

 row's, no more. And a little farther on, the elegant ermine had left 

 witness of its agility in a gallop, the distance between the tracks 

 showing what marvellous jumps the little creature must have made. 



We were in high spirits now at the outset of our journey through 

 this kindly landscape, beautiful in itself, and rich in promise at least 

 of game. As we went on, however, the snow grew deeper and the 

 ground rougher; the river bed proved impassable in places, and when 

 at last we halted, after a fourteen hour's day, our total bag amounted 

 to one little ptarmigan per man. This day the poor dogs had none. 

 Time after time throughout the day we had turned aside to go in 

 search of game up among the hills, but ever without result; all we 

 could do for the present was to hope that all those valleys and 

 ravines soon might prove more faithful to their promise. 



The following day, however, brought but the same result, with 

 only additional depth of snow and of disappointment. We pitched 

 our tent, and bade our troubles leave us for a while to sleep. 



Once more we found ourselves obliged to hold a council of war. 

 True to its name, the Zig-Zag Valley was giving us more trouble than 

 we had found reason to expect. Our first delight at finding ourselves 

 on open land was in danger of giving place to a longing for just one 

 day on the firm, level surface on the inland ice, where we could mark 

 off our course as with a ruler, and swallow up the miles in greedy 

 gulps. 



The Zig-Zag Valley has played us a mean trick. It began by 

 running eastward, and now it has suddenly slewed round to the north, 

 leading in through the hills in a direction we have not the least 

 desire to take. We have reached a place where the river bed widens 

 out, leading eastward again, but the snow is deeper now and heavier, 

 the weather being warm, and the dogs are thoroughly sick of it. We 

 must find a way oat somehow. In spite of continual scouting exped- 

 itions both on foot and on ski up among the hills, and down the 

 valleys and ravines on either hand, we have not sighted a single musk 

 ox track, and even the hares, that came out so cheerfully to meet 

 us up on the moraine, have now completely disappeared. The whole 

 place seems absolutely devoid of game, and we may be thankful if 

 we get a brace or so of ptarmigan a day for the pot. 



