THE RETURN OF THE SUN 237 



ing here I flushed a flock of ptarmigans, which rose 

 with a noise similar to that of Scotch grouse. 



Far out on the Sound the peaks of icebergs re- 

 flected the sun's rays. Though we were still in 

 shadow my eyes were so unaccustomed to light that 

 in another vain attempt to see the sun from the 

 mountain I returned suffering a partial attack of 

 snow-blindness, and resolved not to venture again 

 far from camp alone, at least not until my eyes had 

 grown more used to the light. 



Bess, a fine dog which Peary had taken home with 

 him to Maine and brought back on the Roosevelt, was 

 stricken at this time and died. One of her pups was 

 also taken ill with fits. Ilabrado told me that a 

 great many of the dogs were taken ill each year with 

 the return of light and many of them died. 



Billy and I could hardly restrain our impatience 

 to see the sun. Shafts of light and direct rays glint- 

 ing on the icebergs far out on Smith Sound tanta- 

 lized us, and one day we took a long walk in that 

 direction in the hope of seeing the sun himself at 

 midday. The temperature was thirty-six degrees 

 below zero and not a breath of wind stirring when we 

 left camp; but before we had gone many miles a blue 

 smoke settled over the distant reaches of ice, and very 

 suddenly when we had walked some three hours di- 

 rectly away from land a strong wind set in from the 

 south, the sky clouded and snow began to fall, com- 

 pletely obscuring the shore. In a very little while 

 the wind assumed the proportions of a gale and a 

 blizzard was raging, so furious that we completely 



