FIRST AND LAST IMPRESSIONS 97 
introduction to this little-known land and the last 
view of the receding mountains of the south coast 
on our return voyage remain as permanent records 
of the beginning and end of a memorable summer 
in Greenland. 
We had our first sight of Greenland late in the 
evening, about an hour before midnight, at close 
quarters: the sun had set, we were still south of 
the Arctic Circle: on each side of the ship were 
rocky islands and promontories with occasional 
patches of snow on their flanks, and the summits 
hidden by clouds. Beyond the headlands in gradu- 
ally deepening gloom were faintly outlined hills 
receding into the arms of a fjord. On passing a 
part of the coast where we were told was a small 
fishing settlement the steamer, with a suddenness 
that seemed to break the spell, gave two shrill 
whistles and soon afterwards a solitary Eskimo 
was dimly seen as a black speck vigorously 
paddling his kayak in the hope of overhauling us 
and probably expecting to be taken on board. This 
was a fitting introduction to a land where the very 
existence of the inhabitants depends upon their 
skill in the use of the incomparable kayak. 
It is comparatively seldom that a passenger in 
one of the Danish government steamers has the 
good fortune to see Cape Farewell or the adjacent 
parts of the coast. The abundance of ice and the 
prevalence of fogs and storms necessitate a course 
well out to sea. On our outward voyage Cape 
Farewell was passed at a distance of about thirty 
miles in the middle of the night: a violent storm 
