THE LAST CRUISE OF THE MIRANDA. 



69 



tell. We took turns at the stroke oar, and occasionally 

 spelled the Eskimos ; but not often, for they can row for hours 

 on a stretch, and at the end seem as fresh as at the com- 

 mencement. It was a beautiful row, amid strange and novel 

 scenery. When we were well out at sea, the sun, now a fiery 

 red ball, sank behind the great snow-capped mountains, tint- 

 ing them and the clouds above with streaks of purple and 

 gold — tints that the waters reflected. Then we entered nar- 

 row and winding channels, and rowed in and out among a 



FIRST CAMP IN GREENLAND. 



number of small islands, mere rocks and moss, as desolate 

 and forbidding as could well be imagined. There is a vast, 

 brooding silence which hangs over the great wastes of Green- 

 land ; it seems almost like an impertinence to break it, by 

 even the dip of an oar, while the sound of laughter or of 

 a human voice seems strangely and weirdly out of place. In 

 the long Arctic twilight we rowed for many hours, until at 

 length we entered the Isortok fiord, and near the mouth of 

 this we pitched our camp for the night. It was our first 

 camp in Greenland, and it was called Camp Outing. 



