36 MY ARCTIC JOURNAL 



the boys returned to the house, where they had more room, 

 even if they were not more comfortable. 



I never shall forget this wretched night following the de- 

 parture of the " Kite." The stream which rushed down the 

 sides of the cliffs divided just back of the tent, and one arm 

 of it went round while the other came through our little 

 shelter. The water came with such force that in a few 

 moments it had made a furrow down the middle of the tent 

 floor several inches deep and nearly the entire width of the 

 floor space, through which it rushed and roared. All night 

 long I was perched tailor-fashion on some boxes, expecting 

 every moment to see the tent torn from its fastenings and the 

 disabled man lying by my side exposed to the fury of the 

 storm. Our only comfort, and one for which we were duly 

 thankful, was that during this " night " of storm we had con- 

 stant daylight; in other words, it was just as light at two 

 o'clock in the morning as it was at two o'clock in the after- 

 noon. When it was time for breakfast, I lighted the oil-stove, 

 which I had fished out of the water just as it was about to 

 float away, and made some coffee, and we breakfasted on 

 coffee, biscuit, and corned beef 



This state of affairs continued until the afternoon, when 

 the storm finally abated and the boys began work again on 

 the roof The water in the tent subsided, and by putting 

 pieces of plank down I could again move about without sink- 

 ing into the mud, and I at once set to work to get the boys a 

 square meal. 



