I spent the morning in transforming one of the rooms into a photographic laboratory.
The carrier pigeons of the expedition were placed in the attic which they had occupied last year.
Behind Pike House, buried under the snow, were the remains of the gas apparatus. After clearing away the snow we found that the parts had not suffered much, and that they could be used with the apparatus we had brought.
That evening, accompanied by Strindberg, Fraenkel, and Svedenborg, we set out on an excursion over the snow and ice, along the east coast. We went as far as the little Albert Island, which was still united to Dane’s Island by ice. Strindberg, who is a very good shot, succeeded in killing a seal, which we could not take with us for want of a boat; he returned to the Svensksund for a boat, but the distance was great, and the dead seal soon sank.
On returning to the vessel, we saw a fine silver fox, which was sniffing along our tracks. He was out of the reach of our bullets, and, as soon as he saw us, he ran off, greatly terrified by such unexpected visitors. He stopped from time to time to turn round and make sure that he had not been the victim of an illusion, and then went on his way more swiftly still, and escaped to the mountains.
On our return to Virgo Bay, it was difficult to reach the Svensksund; the wind, which had gone round to the north a little while before, had brought a good deal of ice. There were no longer any passages sufficiently wide to allow a boat to be steered through them; we stepped on to one mass of ice, and, by jumping from one to the other, we were able to regain the vessel.
June 2nd.—The wind had changed again from north to east. The bay had become cleared of a great portion of the ice with which it was filled a few hours before.
A little steam launch brought by the Svensksund was then able to render useful service. The unloading went on more quickly; we hastened on that of the Virgo especially, as she was to leave us directly afterwards, carrying news of us to our friends.
Strindberg was engaged in some photographic studies of the snow and ice; I spent part of the day with him developing the plates.
June 3rd.—The sky was very clear at two o’clock in the morning; there was not a cloud upon the horizon, and there was nothing to warn us that a few hours later a strong north wind would bring us violent squalls laden with snow, and at the same time bring back the ice that had been driven away from us. This bad weather somewhat hindered the work during the morning. After breakfast there was a little interlude at the expense of a seal which had gone to sleep on a block of ice. It was more than 200 yards from the ship, happily for itself, for ten guns or carbines were levelled at it from the deck, and at the word of command from the captain a volley saluted the new-comer, who immediately disappeared, having no doubt formed a bad opinion of the human race.