Ill Arctic adventures the search continued 



isolated nest in which the clutch had not yet hatched, and near 

 it we set up a makeshift blind. Since we had no regular blind with 

 us, it was necessary to lash an old piece of burlap sacking between 

 the emergency paddles from the aircraft, so as to form a kind 

 of screen, and then hold this upright with several guy lines tied 

 to the tough little sprigs of Arctic willow. When this contraption 

 was in place, we retired so as to permit the neglek to get used to 

 its appearance and proximity. At length we returned. I crouched 

 behind the screen with a camera and, after a moment, Bob osten- 

 tatiously walked away. 



The "real neglek" had been watching this performance from 

 the beach close by, running up and down in her peculiarly tilted 

 fashion, head forward and gait erratic. When Smith had re- 

 treated to some distance, the bird showed signs of wanting to get 

 back on her eggs, but evidently wasn't at all happy about the 

 screen. With much twisting and turning of her short neck she ran 

 up and down, trying to satisfy herself that all was well. Finally 

 she grew bold enough to work her way back to the nest. Then, 

 just before deciding to settle down on her clutch, she ran a little 

 toward me and to one side, craning her neck so as to peer behind 

 the screen. For a brief moment the real neglek and I looked into 

 each other's eyes. Immediately, she ran back to the nest again, 

 her plump body tilted over in a starboard list, with her neck 

 arched forward. Then, still dissatisfied, she trotted on to the other 

 side and peered at me from that direction. I sat perfectly still, 

 of course, and again looked briefly into her anxious eyes. Back 

 she ran to the nest and then came around once again to the other 

 side of the screen. This could have continued all afternoon, but 

 after a little I took pity on her and gave it up as a bad job. If you 

 had ever gazed into the eyes of a real neglek you would under- 

 stand my emotions. There was no further choice in the matter. I 

 pulled down the screen, rolled it around the paddles, and high- 

 tailed it out of there. And she returned, at her own one-sided 

 gallop, to that beautiful downy nest and the eggs that were of 

 such concern to her. And the world or that small, rather bare 

 but highly interesting portion of it in which this little drama 

 transpired revolved on an even keel again. 



