210 ICE-BOUND ON KOLGUEV 
individual we saw, till we got one later on in winter 
plumage. 
The second bird was alive. It was a young turnstone, 
some seven days old. We put it in with the waiter, who 
opened his mouth at it and made faces, but would not be 
friends. 
July 17th.—The ice unchanged. A hateful day. The 
thermometer at 40°, with a driving fog and north wind. 
This fog, of which I have spoken so often, is really a 
‘Scotch mist,’ which falls on the tent like rain. 
If you leave things out in the sun you must not go to 
sleep. The wind here goes round in a minute and all is 
up. Now it is sunny and drying, with a warm wind from 
the south ; suddenly the wind chops round to the north, 
and at once a fog, cold and wetting, sets in. 
We had a seal or a young walrus in the harbour to- 
day. It showed several times. 
But I did not get about much to see things, for I had 
la grippe, or something akin, which pinched. I lay up 
chiefly and blew eggs. Hyland, who had never before 
known me unwell for a moment, began to get alarmed. 
He was exceedingly kind, and ‘boneing’ some turn- 
stones and grey plovers, cooked them beautifully for 
me. 
At half-past five in the evening Hyland was plucking 
a long-tailed duck, the waiter was making bluffs at the 
turnstone in the pen, and I was blowing eggs, when all 
