These spread out into long lines till they meet, and we are girdled by lines of shining snow-cliffs, laved at their bases by waters of illusion in which they appear to be faithfully reflected.

So the shadows come and go silently, melting away finally as the sun declines to the west.

We seem to be drifting helplessly in a strange world of unreality.

It is reassuring to feel the ship beneath one's feet and to look down at the familiar line of kennels and igloos on the solid floe." The floe was not so solid as it appeared.

We had reminders occasionally that the greedy sea was very close, and that the floe was but a treacherous friend, which might open suddenly beneath us.