IN SCHAROK CAMP 197 
I should never have done but for Verrmyah’s story of the 
disappearance of the ice. For I could see we were in a 
bad place. And the ice? I climbed up to the roof of 
Uano’s hut in the very early morning when the air was 
clear, and instead of Verrmyah’s open sea this was what 
I saw: To the north a line of ice—how wide I could not 
tell—but too wide for a vessel’s approach. Down the 
eastern side ice—ice beyond the harbour entry, beyond 
that an open way, and then ice again. The Gulf was 
just one single ice-field ; and though there may have been 
a patch here and there of free water, only madness would 
try to take a vessel in. 
July v1th.—With a light wind from the east and the 
thermometer at 50° F. in the tent at noon, it felt quite 
warm. ; 
When Hyland went down for the water this morning 
he found a single brent goose in the harbour, which he 
shot at and winged. After this bird old Sailor went. 
The tide was running out strongly, and the old dog had 
a tough job against it. He stuck bravely to his bird. 
But it was no use; the goose had the legs of him all the 
way. It never dived, only it would let the dog draw up, 
and then, just when he was quite certain the game was his, 
swim quickly out of reach uttering its defiant cry—a 
single ‘Wank!’ At last I grew rather anxious about the 
old dog in the cold water, and called him in. 
Hyland in the evening brought me in a sanderling in 
