214 Mr. A. Newton on the Birds of Spitsbergen. 



It was placed in a recess among the rocks, at the base of the 

 ridge, just above a low plain, which, interspersed with pools of 

 water, extended for about a couple of miles to the sea. Return- 

 ing to the yacht, we weighed anchor in the evening, and put, 

 to sea, accompanied by the sloop, which had rejoined us. 



For an entire week, from the day last mentioned, I have 

 scarcely an ornithological event to record. We were making first 

 for the South Cape, and then for the Thousand Islands ; but 

 nearly the whole time we were enveloped in a dense dripping 

 fog, most depressing to our spirits, and perplexing to the pilot 

 and captain. Among other ways of passing the time, some of 

 the ship^s company took to fishing for Ivory-Gulls ; or rather, I 

 think I should say, for one Ivory-Gull, as I suspect it was the 

 same individual bird that visited our wake on some three or four 

 successive afternoons, timing his arrival with wonderful accui'acy 

 to hit ofi" the emptying of the galley-pail after the men^s dinner. 

 If enticed by choice morsels of pork-fat, he would stay with us 

 for half an hour or more. Angling has, unfortunately, never 

 been an amusement of mine, and I understand very few of its 

 mysteries ; I therefore cannot account for our want of success on 

 this, and indeed on subsequent occasions. The birds more than 

 once took the bait; but even when we were scarcely moving- 

 through the water, and they had plenty of time to swallow it, 

 something always seemed to occur just at the critical moment to 

 prevent their being hooked ; and the general result was as unsa- 

 tisfactory as when I tried to fish for Storm-Petrels between Ber- 

 muda and Halifax (Ibis, 1859, p. 373). 



About noon on the 4th of August, the pilot, who had been dili- 

 gently taking soundings all the morning, announced that he knew 

 where we were, and pointed out our position on the chart. A 

 few hours afterwards, the wind veered, the fog lifted, and there 

 sure enough was land — the east coastof the Stor Fjord — just where 

 it ought to be. A little later and we recognized our consort, 

 from whom we had been for some days parted. Early next 

 morning Mr. Birkbeck hoisted his flag on board the sloop, and 

 sailed away to the eastward among the Thousand Islands, hoping 

 to fall in with Walruses ; while the yacht, in which Ir emained, 

 stood up the Stor Fjord. The wind being light we made but 



