PESANKA TO SCHAROK 179 



first because of the lichens, as it rolled alono- it chanoed 

 and changed again. For it took colours from the sun- 

 light and colours from the clouds. Here it was purple, 

 which deepened back and deepened back till suddenly 

 a spot lay lit to emerald, as the sun caught a moss-flat or 

 the grasses round a tarn. And here it was blue — a blue 

 like the haze in England when the hay is in rows in the 

 sun. And if you sat and watched a little longer, lakes 

 began to form from separate small centres, and widened 

 and grew till they formed a chain of waters spanning the 

 tundra from hand to hand. Though you knew they 

 were but phantoms of the mirage, transformed from little 

 drifts and cups of snow, it mattered little — you had your 

 picture all the same. 



And away to the west lay the ice barriers, dense upon 

 the water and ridged upon the sands. Only now, lifted 

 up in the sunlight, it was no more the level ice-pack, 

 but noble cliffs of quivering whiteness as round some 

 enchanted isle. 



There was more than this, much more. But these are 

 the broader touches in the scene. 



This was Sunday, and that perhaps was why the 

 women all knelt in a row by a stream and washed their 

 hair. Then they combed it with their fingers and tied it 

 up. It is straight and black, and it reaches nearly to the 

 waist. Also, because it was Sunday we cooked one of our 

 four tins of preserved beef, and stewed some apple chips. 



I don't mean to imply that the Samoyed food is not 



