we had proceeded a short distance, we became aware of a white
object sitting on a stone heap beneath a little ridge, and soon noticed
more in other directions. They looked quite ghostly as they sat there
silent and motionless. With the help of my field-glass I discovered
that they were snow-owls. We set out after them, but they took care
to keep out of the range of a fowling-piece. Sverdrup, however,
shot one or two with his rifle. There was a great number of them;
I could count as many as eight or ten at once. They sat motionless
on tussocks of grass or stones, watching, no doubt, for lemmings, of
which, judging from their tracks, there must have been quantities. We,
however, did not see any.

From the tops of the ridges we could see over the Kara Sea to the
northeast. Everywhere ice could be descried through the telescope, far
on the horizon--ice, too, that seemed tolerably close and massive. But
between it and the coast there was open water, stretching, like a wide
channel, as far as the eye could reach to the southeast. This was all
we could make out, but it was in reality all we wanted. There seemed to
be no doubt that we could make our way forward, and, well satisfied,
we returned to our boat. Here we lighted a fire of driftwood, and
made some glorious coffee.

As the coffee-kettle was singing over a splendid fire, and we
stretched ourselves at full length on the slope by its side and
smoked a quiet pipe, Sverdrup made himself thoroughly comfortable,
and told us one story after another. However gloomy a country might
look, however desolate, if only there were plenty of driftwood on
the beach, so that one could make a right good fire, the bigger the
better, then his eyes would glisten with delight--that land was his
El Dorado. So from that time forth he conceived a high opinion of
the Siberian coast--a right good place for wintering, he called it.

On our way back we ran at full speed on to a sunken rock. After
a bump or two the boat slid over it; but just as she was slipping
off on the other side the propeller struck on the rock, so that the
stern gave a bound into the air while the engine whizzed round at a
tearing rate. It all happened in a second, before I had time to stop
her. Unluckily one screw blade was broken off, but we drove ahead with
the other as best we could. Our progress was certainly rather uneven,
but for all that we managed to get on somehow.

Towards morning we drew near the Fram, passing tw