AN ARCTIC RESIDENCE 249 



the Magpie, which came quite slowly straight back 

 to his family. Then he began peering under the 

 stones where the poor Redwing had taken refuge. 

 It was most amusing to watch him, as he cocked 

 his head on one side and " keeked " into every 

 likely sanctuary. At last he gave it up, that is 

 to say, apparently, but not in reality. Such an 

 old-timer was not going to be done by any wily 

 Redwing. He only retired to a point of vantage 

 a few yards away, and just waited and watched till 

 the would-be victim should recover its equanimity 

 and emerge. But the Redwing had got such a 

 fright that it never appeared again, and the patience 

 of even the old Raven being at last exhausted, he 

 retired to his favourite cliff. 



I had hoped to enjoy a little fishing in the neigh- 

 bourhood, but this proved a sad disappointment. 

 I tried in several lakes minnow, worm and fly 

 without success, these Arctic trout seemed to 

 be impervious to all lures. Two days' journey 

 away was the celebrated Alten, one of the best 

 rivers in Norway for salmon, and though the Duke 

 of Roxburgh had kindly given me permission to 

 fish, I could not get away from my work for such 

 amusement, so what short leisure I had was devoted 

 to landscape painting and wandering over the high 

 fjeld, where bird and animal life was very scarce, 

 but blueberries plentiful in their season. Life was 

 made up in sending and receiving code telegrams 

 and visiting local merchants and ships to carry out 

 the instructions of our Government and Admiralty. 

 Some of it was by no means pleasant work, for 

 during 1916 the Norwegians regarded British Consuls 

 as little better than interlopers " policemen " 



