no ice motion could occur, until room had been made for it by drift, crushing together, or disintegration of the southern floes. Even after the break-up had travelled far northwards, undue precipitancy would be disastrous. Much of our precious fuel might be expended in pushing through, and being checked by ice which, a little later on, would move down, and leave an uninterrupted passage to the North. Accordingly, we had plenty of time for all that had to be done at Disco. Every available space was filled with coal. Casks and cases of provisions covered the upper deck. Twenty splendid dogs were embarked in charge of our intelligent and trustworthy Eskimo dog-driver “Fred,” who was here entered on the books of the Expedition. Chronometers were rated, and magnetic deflections noted. And the first camping-out was done by a party to the site of the supposed meteorolites at Ovifak. After working hours the high basaltic cliffs beyond the harbour were irresistibly attractive. From the deck of the ship it was easy to plan routes to the top, but not everyone who tried the climb succeeded. A bold detour to the left was eventually found the easiest way up, and a cairn on a noble bluff over the “Lyngemarken” records our visit. Nothing could be more picturesque than these fine cliffs, bathed in evening sunlight that caught every pinnacle and ridge, but left the ravines in shadow. Patches of last winter’s snow, here and there brilliantly pink with the red snow-plant, lay in the hollows and water-courses. The green “Lyngemarken,” or heath-field, below is perhaps the most luxurious spot inside the Arctic Circle, and is well known as a paradise for botanists. A small stream running through its centre is said to flow for the greater part of the year. During our visit its banks were lined with soft green vegetation, bordering miniature groves of dwarf willow three feet high, and the rocky flats beyond were rich with purple rhododendron. The Eskimo shooting season was over, but a few ptarmigan still croaked amongst the neighbouring rocks; their numbers were too few to reward our sportsmen for the trouble of climbing after them.