THE SPRIXG AND SUMMER OF iSg4 497 



It had rummaged about in every hole and corner where 

 there seemed to be any chance of finding food, and had 

 rooted in the snow after anything the dogs had left, or 

 whatever else it miQ;ht be. It had then sfone to the 

 lanes in the ice, and skirted them carefully, no doubt in 

 the hope of finding a seal or two, and after that it had 

 gone off between the hummocks and over floes, with a 

 surface of nothing but slush and water. Had the surface 

 been good I should no doubt have overtaken Master 

 Bruin, but he had too long a start in the slushy snow. 



" A dismal, dispiriting landscape — nothing but white 

 and gray. No shadows — merely half- obliterated forms 

 melting into the fog and slush. Everything is in a state 

 of disintegration, and one's foothold gives way at every 

 step. It is hard work for the poor snow-shoer who stamps 

 along through the slush and fog after bear-tracks that 

 wind in and out among the hummocks, or over them. 

 The snow - shoes sink deep in, and the water often 

 reaches up to the ankles, so that it is hard work to get 

 them up or to force them forward ; but without them 

 one would be still worse off. 



" Every here and there this monotonous grayish 

 whiteness is broken by the coal-black water, which wdnds, 

 in narrower or broader lanes, in between the high hum- 

 mocks. White, snow-laden floes and lumps of ice float 

 on the dark surface, looking like white marble on a 

 black ground. Occasionally there is a larger dark-col- 

 ored pool, where the wdnd gets a hold of the water and 



