CHAPTER XXX 



BRIGHT sun for once and away we have been steam- 

 ing since early morning, south and east, hoping to get 

 clear of the great floes that bar our way to the west. 

 I long for mountains, the flat plains of ice-floe and snow grow 

 very wearisome. Now, near land, these land-floes are like 

 endless plaster ceiling that has dropped more or less in frag- 

 ments. In the Antarctic the floes look as if a Greek temple 

 had come to bits and lay floating on the sea. There is a 

 considerable difference, therefore, in appearance ; at least 

 I speak for the southern ice which I have met south-east 

 of Graham's Land. There are no seals, therefore we hardly 

 expect bears, and there is never a sign of the blow of a 

 whale. Only one narwhal this morning, we almost ran 

 into it. I wish it had driven its spear into us, it seems 

 the only hope of getting a good one. 



Floes extend in a line for miles north and south ; we 

 think it will be best now to wait for them to open, rather 

 than to wander away south in hopes of getting an opening 

 round them. Shannon Island, on the north-east of Green- 

 land, is our aim. 



. . . The floes are flatter, with fewer tombstones pro- 

 truding from the level white ; it gets monotonous. Mist 

 comes at night. Hamilton and Gisbert play chess, Don 

 Jose and the writer teach each other English and Spanish. 

 Don Luis plays patience and Don Jose Herrero does nothing, 

 with quiet dignity. This morning, after an hour at Spanish, 

 I turned out first of our party for breakfast and found our 

 starboard bear also on the point of coming out. It had its 

 head and feet out and was only stopped by a single rope, a 

 mere accident, but it puzzled the bear rope was new to it. 

 The she-cook and writer were the only people on deck. I 

 tried to look not afraid and she certainly looked perfectly 

 cool, and kept on wiping a dish, but went into the galley. I 



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