206 WHALING AND BEAR-HUNTING 



of tides, ocean currents, temperature, colouring, electrical 

 currents and air currents information about subjects we 

 know a little of, and, possibly, secrets of nature not yet 

 dreamed of. 



Then we turned in early for us, for last night's damp 

 and mist and the quiet of the sea seemed to make us som- 

 nolent, so by twelve o'clock we were mostly to bed, except 

 the steward, whose galley is next my bunk. He and the 

 first mate and cook, a female cook we brought from Tromso, 

 were having a quiet concert. They made a group like a 

 picture of the Dutch school ; the steward in half light, in 

 a white jacket, trolling out an air to the guitar, our jolly, 

 beamy vivandiere and the mate sitting opposite, almost 

 (or as you may say, quite) on each other's knees in the tiny 

 quarters, cups, dishes, and vegetables round them. 



The steward, Pedersen, was pathetic to-day about the 

 vivandiere, he noted a chip in a cup at breakfast and gazed 

 at it mournfully and sighed : " She is so mush too sdrong dis 

 she-cook of ours." She is strong, and red-cheeked, it is true, 

 and very beamy and has a laugh and a word for everyone. 

 She was one of the few who were not sick coming over from 

 Norway, and though so broad and strong, she nipped about 

 between the seas like an A.B., and laughed when the cold 

 sea-water came up to her knees. I back Norwegian she- 

 cooks against the field. 



I have written down what a tricky musician is this steward, 

 he keeps a music shop in Tromso in winter, his wife and 

 kinderen look after it in summer, when the midnight sun 

 appears, then he attends princes and humble people like 

 ourselves, who go in search of whales, or adventures ; or 

 scientific data to this " end of the garden," where you have 

 sun and winter in midsummer, fog, snow, drifting ice-floes, 

 sun, heat, cold, huge energy, a great deal of beauty, and 

 astounding repose. But why this restfulness here ? we all 

 did at least eight to ten hours last night. Neither the 

 writer, nor De Gisbert, nor some others of our party ever 

 do so much at a spell down South. And at any time in 

 the twenty-four hours one can be awake or go to sleep with 

 equal facility appetites go up wonderfully, we simply wade 



