Triplett's adjustable yard-arm which controlled our conviviality was occasionally shifted to keep the low circling sun directly over it and many a toast was eaten as the cheery plug passed round. My last conscious memory after my fifth quid, was the sound of Frissell's ukelele above my head and beside me the unabashed endearments of Triplett talking to his "apple."
FOOTNOTES:
[5] Ekstrom illustrates the same point in his lectures by using a cake (usually chocolate) in place of a pie. The objection to this method is that the segmental walls have a tendency to crumble, confusing the illusion of polar travel. Otherwise his system follows mine.
W.E.T.
[6] In Taupol, the southernmost of the Maladive Islands, I lived for three months in a similar climate without injurious results but it must be borne in mind that I wore only a one-piece suit of Khitra (gobang leaves). T.
[7] "Northland! Northland! I for you am." Undoubtedly the fragment of an old Saga of Icelandic origin. A modern musical derivative was once popular in American folk song with the refrain, "Hip, Hooray, we're off for Baffin's Bay, etc." See W.J. Krehbiel's "Gems of Greenland," pp. 94-96.
We reach the polar cap. The strange incident of the missing Orders. Who stole the papers? The Arctic summer. A sportsman's Paradise. Notes from my journal. Whinney's sad experience.