GREENLAND BY THE POLAR SEA 



ing light of the inland-ice ahead. The road to the white glacier 

 leads homeward, to all that for which, our work accomplished, 

 we are now longing. Home-sickness has appeared suddenly 

 now when the day is no longer swallowed up by the fight for 

 food ; for it is a blessing to know that every day there will be 

 something to eat, even though the rations are small. 



To-day we wearily struggled on to the mountain, from 

 which we had a mighty view across a wild canyon which we 

 named " The Devil's Cleft." On both sides 500 metres high 

 mountains fall steeply down into a barren, brownish valley, 

 through which a melancholy little brook winds ; the glacier 

 hangs out over the ravines like waves stiffened in horror over 

 the mute uncanniness which rests over this eerie landscape in 

 the midst of eternal winter. 



No sign of life, not a bird, not a plant, softens the impression 

 of this utmost desolation, where nothing but a few lichens have 

 sucked strength enough from the warmth of the sun to clothe 

 the sharp stones with a grey, modest cover. Never, it appears 

 to me, have I experienced anything so distant and isolated as 

 this wild landscape, fighting its lonely, stubborn fight against 

 the glaciers which from all sides threaten to pour down over it. 



Thus, whilst century follows century, everything changes. 

 Even this desert has had its adventures, for we find great, beau- 

 tiful branches of coral, bearing witness that even here in this 

 heart of winter was once a tropic climate, where the waves of a 

 living ocean, driven by mild breaths of wind, merrily lapped 

 across the stubborn remains of a bygone period. 



There is a peculiar atmosphere in the tent to-day. Perhaps 

 it is the bright prospects, and the weather, which at last seems 

 willing to put an end to the nervousness which, under eternal 

 changes between rain, snow, and fog, has endured for the last 

 three weeks ; both the internal and external disquiet have given 

 way to a restful security, and when we are calm for a little while 

 idyllic feelings abide in our tent. During the forced daily 

 marches there somehow is no time for quiet communion ; but in 

 an afternoon like this one draws breath and plans the work of 

 all the collections which now we struggle to get safely in har- 

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