WE WALK ACROSS 103 



But again I had my doubts. Indeed, the bird was 

 changing very strangely. And then I saw plainly enough 

 that it was not a bird at all, but an Arctic hare sitting up 

 as hares will sit. I was much excited about this. It was 

 the first hare I had seen. 



I crept up. The hare sat on, — still a hare, but dwindling. 

 To cut a long story short — when I came within shooting- 

 distance it was to find neither lake nor swan, neither 

 willow-grouse nor hare, but a little cock snow-bunting 

 perched upon a mound against a drift of snow. 



Further on on the top of a wind-sw r ept shoulder of the 

 hill I took four eggs from a grey plover's nest. The 

 nest was a deep circular depression containing, with the 

 exception of a little lichen, nothing but the eggs. The 

 hen bird I shot, but the male was impossible to secure, 

 he was so wild and wary. After waiting about a long- 

 time for him I had to give it up. 



As this bird flew off it was met by one of a pair of 

 Arctic skuas who were hunting the ground for eggs. 

 The skua made a cut at it. But the grey plover, rising- 

 high in the air came down on the unlucky skua like a 

 bolt, and followed him up, wheeling and buffeting in fine 

 style. 



We reached our mountain to find it was about 150 

 feet high. 



' It consisted of three conical hills, rising very suddenly, 

 and grouped in the shape of a triangle. The base of 

 this was open, but the hills were tied together on two 



