I made a careful examination of
the spit with the object of ascertaining its possibilities as a camping-
ground. Apparently, some of the beach lay above high-water mark and the
rocks that stood above the shingle gave a measure of shelter. It would
be possible to mount the snow-slope towards the glacier in fine
weather, but I did not push my exploration in that direction during the
gale. At the seaward end of the spit was the mass of rock already
mentioned. A few thousand ringed penguins, with some gentoos, were on
these rocks, and we had noted this fact with a great deal of
satisfaction at the time of our landing. The ringed penguin is by no
means the best of the penguins from the point of view of the hungry
traveller, but it represents food. At 8 a.m. that morning I noticed
the ringed penguins mustering in orderly fashion close to the water's
edge, and thought that they were preparing for the daily fishing
excursion; but presently it became apparent that some important move
was on foot. They were going to migrate, and with their departure much
valuable food would pass beyond our reach. Hurriedly we armed ourselves
with pieces of sledge-runner and other improvised clubs, and started
towards the rookery. We were too late. The leaders gave their squawk
of command and the columns took to the sea in unbroken ranks.
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