312 
FROM EDINBURGH TO THE ANTARCTIC 
to find a berg was sailing down on the top of us, or rather 
that the pack on which we were was driving on to it, which 
came to much the same thing, so I shouted to the men to 
look out, and they stood up from their work and looked 
up at the blue mystery stealing over us. 
The berg was shaped like the bows of two ironclads 
side by side, and the great deep cleft between the ice 
walls seemed brimful of a dazzling glory of liquid blue, 
changed by infinite gradations to a sparkling emerald 
green where the ice foot shone through the dark indigo 
water. The sun's rays sloped over the snowy top of 
the berg and fell on the white floe and the splashes of 
scarlet, and drew golden lines round the dark forms of 
the men. A marvellously beautiful picture, with just 
enough of human interest and dramatic suspense to 
enforce the beauty of the colouring. 
For a moment the men stood, knives in hand, looking 
up at the ponderous cliff, then came helter-skelter over 
the snow, which happened to be hard, left the skins 
behind them, and tumbled into the boat. Then we all 
