THE DBIVE. 
221 
herd turned tail, literally, and made off in a direction 
we never contemplated. From our vantage ground we 
could see the whole proceeding with our glass, and we 
followed the dusky forms of the herd as they went 
away at a topping pace down the valley towards some 
special retreat they were known to frequent. As they 
go, the men bring their guns to their shoulders to try 
their luck at a long shot, but all to no purpose; the 
beasts escape without the loss of an antler tip, and 
pretty as the sight is to us who are only lookers on at 
this attempt, it is a disappointment we all equally 
deplore. 
Our observations were not entirely without a purpose. 
During the chase of the deer we had time to look about 
us, and as our .schooner lay in Widdie Fiord, a harbour 
on the northern shore, we could see that only a narrow 
neck of land divided us from Icy Fiord, the point for 
which shipwrecked sailors in this inhospitable land 
make, in the hopes of meeting with a ship to take them 
home; we endeavoured to trace a course from the 
northern shore, by which escape could be rendered 
more secure. These valleys, through whose windings 
the deer wander, may be part of a continuous system, 
which start from the fiord on the western coast, and 
lead down to the swampy lowlands where we found 
the herd. Speculating on these things we return to 
