THE WALRUS 147 



strand us off Cape Maurice and, haunted as I 

 was by the recollections of Tegethof s cruise, 

 I had on more than one occasion almost ordered 

 a retreat. Fortunately, we had discovered a 

 large open bay in the ice-field, which had per- 

 fhitted us to push northwards, and we had come 

 to Franz Joseph Land, meeting from time to 

 time large stranded icebergs, which, indicating 

 shoals as they do, proved excellent guides. 

 We steamed cautiously, sounding our way, 

 conscious of the nearness of the land, but still 

 unable to see it. Occasionally, in spots where 

 the mist thinned, we were able to obtain a 

 vague glimpse of the coast. Our gloom deepened 

 at sight of the land ! what abject desolation 

 to have achieved after enduring so much ! 

 Steeps of snow and ice, rising from the sea 

 and becoming lost to sight in the mist 

 which their vibrations kept in motion, were 

 all that lay before us. Cliffs, formed of 

 basalt columns, here and there stained the 

 whiteness of the snow. The land was one of 

 mysterious and depressing stillness. Depressing 

 indeed was my first impression of Franz 

 Joseph Land ! 



Notwithstanding his long experience of 

 navigating solely by instinct and calculation, 

 de Gerlache, who had been unable to take a 



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