SCHAROK AGAIN 267 
days ago—that would be Saturday, the 26th instant—he 
had seen a steamer off the northern end of the upper sand- 
banks. She was there, he said, all the morning, but in the 
afternoon was gone. Of course he had fully made up his 
mind that she was our boat, and as he always hoped we 
should be with him all the winter, so now he felt that sure. 
But I was of a different mind. The date was too early, 
and I knew quite well that if the Savon had succeeded 
in coming so close as that, she would not have gone off 
so quickly. 
Now came the question, what were we to do? We 
had no vegetables, no bread, and only a few biscuits in 
the bag. I attributed much of Hyland’s aches and pains 
to want of vegetable food. Round our present camp 
all was bog or peat; but up with Uano there were 
grassy banks where sorrel grew. I knew also that from 
Pesanka camp we could keep an eye on the sea. So 
I told the old man that he must come down to-morrow 
and bring us sleighs so that we could return with him. 
Of course he was delighted. 
July 31st—So we sat there talking and talking, in 
the hope that the wind would fall or the rain stop. 
Is it in Dean Ramsay, or where? I forget. But the 
rector says to the old clerk— 
‘This is getting very serious, John. We must have 
on Sunday the prayers appointed for rain.’ 
‘Yes, sir, very good,’ says old John; ‘prayers ’pinted. 
