WE WALK ACROSS 107 



was you must put fifty pounds weight odd on your back 

 and with it walk a mile or two, sometimes on Brighton 

 beach, and sometimes in a bog which takes you almost 

 up to your knees. 



When we stopped for luncheon at 3.30 p.m., we each 

 ate a lunch biscuit spread over with Liebig's Extract, 

 and a raw rasher of bacon, and drank snow-water. We 

 couldn't make a fire, and felt obliged to save the methy- 

 lated spirits. 



Lying on my back, in a half-sleepy state, after luncheon, 

 I was much interested in watching the ways of a pair of 

 snow-buntings. 



They were building a nest out of sight under the over- 

 hanging- snow which formed the bank of a tinv stream. 

 The hen worked exceedingly hard, exerting all her little 

 energies to pull fibres from the ground. The cock was 

 a fraud. 



You know how some persons make a great show 

 of passing things to you at luncheon-time. Actually 

 they do nothing — they let it go. But each time you 

 reach for the salt, they wave a hand after it as though 

 a macnc wand. The cock snow-buntino- had learned this 

 trick well. Very assiduous, very fussy, he accompanied 

 his wife up and down. He waited upon her while she 

 hunted up fibres ; he flew back with her and watched 

 while she worked at the nest — a perfect example ol a 

 despot lord. I do not believe he gathered a solitary thing 

 himself; I never saw him do it. 



