IN SCHAROK CAMP 207 
The glaucous gulls had left the huts; they only came 
now at rare intervals. 
On this day something happened to my inside. I had 
gone up the long creek with old Sailor, and lay down for 
some time watching some grey plover. When I rose 
some pinch took hold of me which pretty well doubled 
me up, so that I could but just succeed in crawling 
home. 
It seemed to me that we wanted vegetables. So we 
opened a jam-pot which we had been treasuring against 
a famine time. The jam said it was strawberry, though 
it seemed like glue. But we ate it, and then I turned in 
at 11.30 P.M., while Hyland went up to the big lake to 
try for a duck. 
He had better luck than that, returning with a couple 
of white-fronted geese, and a little living young one. 
This youngster, he said, dived splendidly, but none the 
less Sailor caught it alive, going clean under after it. 
Our gosling had a way of standing straight up on end, 
but with his breast puffed out, very consequential, exactly 
recalling a city waiter. So ‘The waiter’ he was named. 
He really was a dear little bird. Not in the least 
bit shy of us, he inspected every corner of the tent, and 
at last went to sleep for several hours under my chin. 
July 16th.—Ice still and apparently unchanged. Mus- 
quitoes very bad again, though the day was not nearly 
so hot. 
