tion, and was off
some cliffs known as Ireland Head. Near these there was a little
village looking seaward, whence I should certainly have been seen.
But, as I had myself, earlier in the winter, been night-bound at this
place, I had learnt there was not a single soul living there at all
this winter. The people had all, as usual, migrated to the winter
houses up the bay, where they get together for schooling and social
purposes.

I soon found it was impossible to keep waving so heavy a flag all the
time, and yet I dared not sit down, for that might be the exact moment
some one would be in a position to see me from the hills. The only
thing in my mind was how long I could stand up and how long go on
waving that pole at the cliffs. Once or twice I thought I saw men
against their snowy faces, which, I judged, were about five and a half
miles from me, but they were only trees. Once, also, I thought I saw a
boat approaching. A glittering object kept appearing and disappearing
on the water, but it was only a small piece of ice sparkling in the
sun as it rose on the surface. I think that the rocking of my cradle
up and down on the waves had helped me to sleep, for I felt as well as
ever I did in my life; and with the hope of a long sunny day, I felt
sure I was good to last another twenty-four hours,--if my boat would
hold out and not rot under the sun's rays.

Each time I sat down to rest, my big dog "Doc" came and kissed my face
and then walked to the edge of the ice-pan, returning again to where I
was huddled up, as if to say, "Why don't you come along? Surely it is
time to start." The other dogs also were now moving about very
restlessly, occasionally trying to satisfy their hunger by gnawing at
the dead bodies of their brothers.

I determined, at mid-day, to kill a big Eskimo dog and drink his
blood, as I had read only a few days before in "Farthest North" of Dr.
Nansen's doing,--that is, if I survived the battle with him. I could
not help feeling, even then, my ludicrous position, and I thought, if
ever I got ashore again, I should have to laugh at myself standing
hour after hour waving my shirt at those lofty cliffs, which seemed to
assume a kind of sardonic grin, so that I could almost imagine they
were laughing at me. At times I could not help thinking of the good
breakfast that my colleagues were enjoying at the back of those same
cliffs, and of the snug fire and the comfortable room which we call
our study.

I c