Soon half a dozen of us had the stores ashore. Our strength was
nearly exhausted and it was heavy work carrying our goods over the
rough pebbles and rocks to the foot of the cliff, but we dare not leave
anything within reach of the tide. We had to wade knee-deep in the icy
water in order to lift the gear from the boats. When the work was done
we pulled the three boats a little higher on the beach and turned
gratefully to enjoy the hot drink the cook had prepared. Those of us
who were comparatively fit had to wait until the weaker members of the
party had been supplied; but every man had his pannikin of hot milk in
the end, and never did anything taste better. Seal steak and blubber
followed, for the seals that had been careless enough to await our
arrival on the beach had already given up their lives. There was no
rest for the cook. The blubber-stove flared and spluttered fiercely as
he cooked, not one meal, but many meals, which merged into a day-long
bout of eating. We drank water and ate seal meat until every man had
reached the limit of his capacity.
The tents were pitched with oars for supports, and by 3 p.m. our camp
was in order. The original framework of the tents had been cast adrift
on one of the floes in order to save weight. Most of the men turned in
early for a safe and glorious sleep, to be broken only by the call to
take a turn on watch.
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