262 ICE-BOUND ON KOLGUEV 



and the blue fox. Not a hare, not a lemming lived upon 

 the island. 



But we badly wanted an oven ; something that would 

 economise our fuel and keep the pot from the cold, which 

 made the meat take far too long in the cooking. I 

 had quite determined that an oven we must have. 



Now there were lying out on the mud some big slabs 

 of sandstone and conglomerate. I put on a pair of india- 

 rubber lono-boots and went for these. Those I wanted 

 most I could not lift, but the next in size I tackled, and 

 after incredible back-breaking exertions, managed to get 

 them out on to the bank. Once the mud pulled off my 

 right boot, and while I was hopping round on the left leg 

 trying to keep the right foot dry, I lost my balance and — 

 squish squash — in went the right foot and down, down, 

 sending up a squirt of liquid mud and smelling bubbles. 

 You would have laughed if you had seen it. I didn't. 



Inch by inch I got my big stones up the bank, and 

 built in a hollow quite a first-rate oven. At any rate, it 

 would take our only pot and the little kettle. 



I cleaned and cut up some duck, stuffed the pot full, 

 lit the fire, and was delighted to find it roar. I was 

 squatting by it rejoicing in the white heat that showed 

 inside, when it suddenly went off like a cannon, blowing 

 the pot out to the entrance and smothering me with 

 bits of stone and ash. A big stone had flown to bits. 

 However, I got another, and by heating it more gradually 

 all went well, and we had no further blastings. 



