The Geographical Journal (Journal of the Royal Geographical Society): Volume IX, No. 4 [‎180r] (30/172)

THE FIRST CROSSING OF SPITSBERGEN.
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head of Advent vale, Gregory counted fifty-two channels which had to be
waded, besides a number narrow enough to be jumped. Some streams in
the island were 100 yards wide or more. All were rapid; some so deep
and swift that they carried us off our legs. Frequently they rolled the
sledges over and over, tangling up the traces about the ponies’ legs and
causing complications. The bogs were just bogs, into which the ponies
irsed to stick fast, so that one had to be used to haul the other out. We
were often reduced almost to desperation, but ultimately we always got
over, thanks greatly to Garwood’s energy and resource. It need scarcely
be said that a few miles of this kind of country was a day’s march. Our
range was limited by the powers of the animals. I may as well state
once for all that it generally rained when we were marching.
One of our ponies bolted back to Advent point from our first camp.
While he was being fetched, Garwood and I made a double journey
onward, and formed a camp at the foot of the range of hills that
form the watershed The boundary between adjacent drainage basins. between Advent and Klok bays. We called the
place Cairn camp (338 feet), and made it our centre for a few days.
Hence one afternoon we climbed by a phenomenally rotten and, in
places, very narrow rock ridge to Bunting bluff (2480 feet), where we
emerged through the cloud-roof into brilliant sunshine, and found our
selves at the edge of an undulating snowfield. The view was of
sparkling brilliancy and indescribable beauty. A two hours’ tramp
over this snowfield and the ascent of a corniced snow-arete beyond took
us to the summit of Fox peak (3180 feet), whence we looked abroad
over a region of glaciers 'and multitudinous peaks. A valley stretched
away at our feet, leading to a wider valley, which debouched into
Klok bay. Unfortunately, valleys and bay were alike buried beneath
a pall of cloud, through which ranges of snow-white peaks jutted up,
far as the eye could reach.
The result of this climb (leaving geology out of the question, of
which it is not my part to speak) was to give us an insight into the
general topography of an intricate region, and to manifest that there
was no route to Klok bay practicable for ponies, at all events at
this time of year. Accordingly, next day Garwood and I loaded our
selves with food, instruments, photographic apparatus, rope, and so
forth, and set out for Klok bay. We went up a side valley, on to
and up the glacier at its head, and so to a pass (Fox pass, 2550 feet)
adjacent to Fox peak. This gave access to Plough glacier, down which
we waded rather than walked, for the snow was deep and soft in the
extreme. For a time we even advanced on all-fours, such was the
toilsomeness of upright progression. A dense fog did not make
the surroundings more cheerful. Below the glacier came a stony
area; then a region of mixed ice, snow, and water at the foot of another
glacier; and then a boggy and utterly desolate valley. At one point
I tumbled into a pool of snow-slush, and was soused to the skin. We