252 ICE-BOUND ON KOLGUEV 
The male snow-buntings were now changing to autumn 
plumage. 
July 25th.—\ had become tired of this inaction. The 
time was slipping on, and as yet we had done so little. 
So after breakfast (fried brent, salt pork—the remains of 
that we gave the Samoyeds—soup of grey plover, long- 
tailed duck and sanderling) I made up my mind we must 
patch up the old boat and go out that we might sound 
the channel and make ready for the Saxon. 
The wretched old craft leaked so badly that it took a 
very long time to plug and patch her up. And even 
when that was done we were in much the same fix as 
Robinson Crusoe with his fine new boat. For she was 
lying high and dry among the grasses. However, we 
stuck to it. Our great want was rollers. There was 
nothing for it but to use the wood of some of the fallen 
crosses—we could not help ourselves. With these and 
an old oar or two, gradually and with infinite exertions 
we worked the boat inch by inch over the snow and mud 
(into which we sank deep at every step, and in which we 
had to probe for our rollers) till we had it at last by the 
water’s edge. 
We put our guns, some cord, a broken kedge, and old 
Sailor into the boat, and finally got under weigh at half- 
past ten at night. The tide was running strongly out—a 
three-quarter ebb—and the moon was in her last quarter. 
The tide was running out so fast that Hyland’s chief 
