156 HUNTING IN THE ARCTIC 



In such case we sped through the grim Arctic Ocean 

 on a beautiful afternoon. The wind was now a mere 

 mermaid's breath, while in the southwest the dark clouds 

 had been swept up high above the horizon, leaving a 

 burnished place from which the next shift of wind was to 

 come. 



Seven of the morning found us in the small bight, a 

 mile across, on the west side of Cape Serge Kamen. 

 The United States chart outlines this headland as a hook 

 curved to the northwest, half -sheltering a bay about five 

 miles broad. In reality the bights on each side are but 

 little indentations in the coastline, of no value for refuge 

 when the wind is onshore from any quarter. We 

 dropped the mud hook opposite the village Tappan and 

 went ashore. Kleinschmidt and Young wandered off to 

 photograph and shoot birds, while we entered the half- 

 dozen igloos to trade for small objects. These huts were 

 similar to those at Welen. I bought a blubber spoon 

 carved out of wood and a snow shovel for taking ice 

 chips out of fishing holes. Then in the large wooden 

 igloo belonging to Wall, a squawman, I purchased three 

 tusks, weighing ten pounds, for four dollars, from Wall's 

 father-in-law. The proprietor was off on an expedition 

 elsewhere. Lovering paid seven dollars for eighteen 

 pounds, including some beautiful old ivory, darkened and 

 discolored as if fossilized. 



At noon we got clear in an increasing west wind, 

 which hauled to northwest and blew to a gale before 

 nightfall. We raced by Welen, having made the 

 seventy-two miles in nine hours, and by heaven's grace 

 were able to see the vast bulk of East Cape in the Hght 

 mist, else we should not have been able to turn round it 

 before going far past. Then we could not have made 



