Life with the Esquimaux/Volume 2/Chapter 1

by Charles Francis Hall

LIFE WITH THE ESQUIMAUX.

CHAPTER I.

Journey to the Unknown, or "Dreaded Land"—Sylvia Island—Lupton Channel—Jones's Tower—A Butterfly—Cape Daly—Hummocky Ice—Ancient Piles of Stones—Discover a new Channel—Dr. Kane's Channel—Immense number of Seals—Extensive View—Davis's Straits—Resolution Island and high Land to the North—Sudden appearance of a Steam-ship—Mount Warwick—Return Journey—Mode of making Traces and Walrus Lines—Note-book Lost—Its Recovery—Ancient Dwellings of Innuits—Rapid Journey back to the Ship—Dangerous Travelling—Ice breaking up—Safe Arrival on Board—Means of sustaining Life in these Regions.

On Wednesday, the 5th day of June, 1861, a day or two after the departure of the Sekoselar Innuits, I prepared myself for another trip, intending this time to visit what the Innuits term the "Dreaded Land," which comprises all the islands eastward of Bear's Sound and Lupton Channel, between Frobisher Bay and Field Bay. As was necessary, I left on board the ship some instructions how to find me and my companions in case the ice, which was becoming very precarious, should break up, and leave us on some of the islands, unable to get away. My intention was to fall back upon the land should the ice break up, and then, if we had to be sought, it would be necessary to look for us somewhere between Hall's Island and Bear Sound.^[1] On the 5th of June, at about three o'clock in the afternoon, in company with Ebierbing and Koodloo, I left Rescue Harbour, and set out for the "Dreaded Land." Our sledge was drawn by six dogs, just half the number that such a journey required. Our progress was slow; for, besides the want of a sufficient team, we saw many seals, the ice being dotted over with them, and the Innuits consumed much time in making their peculiar, cautious approaches (elsewhere described), which are always necessary in order to take these animals. Koodloo is a good sealer. Having selected his game, he succeeded in crawling up to within thirteen fathoms of the seal, and shot him in the head. In five minutes we who were on the sledge arrived at the spot where our prize lay by his hole, when a general dog-fight took place.

The weight of fresh meat thus obtained being no less than 200 pounds, we found ourselves in the predicament of the man who bought the elephant. What should we do with our seal? Finally, we fastened it behind our sledge, dragged it to a convenient place, and cut it up; took with us a part of the meat and blubber for present use, and deposited the remainder en cache—that is, we buried it under snow by the side of a hummock, and tarried awhile to have a raw seal-feast.

In the evening, after our repast, we resumed our journey, proceeding at first in the direction of Dillon Mountain,^[2] at the east end of "Lok's Land,"^[3] but changed our course at ten o'clock on account of hummocks, and now proceeded due south toward Lupton Channe.^[4] Some time after midnight we made our first encampment on the ice, and lay down to repose upon a couch of snow.

At 10:30 a.m. of June 6th we resumed our journey, and soon after observed a seal upon the ice; but, as we were to windward, it scented us, and down it went. We were still among hummocks, and enveloped in fog. Before noon the fog lifted, and we found ourselves in sight of land near Lupton Channel. We stopped a while opposite the entrance to this channel for a seal which was discovered ahead. But seal, land, mountains, and clouds became closed in by thick fog; a snow-storm came on from the W.N.W. and it soon blew a gale.

This weather compelling us to hold over, we all left the sledge and dogs, and went a few rods on to the land, to prospect for a suitable spot for an encampment. We found one by the side of a mountain of rock. Here we broke up a beam—a part of our sledge—for fuel to prepare our coffee. We ought, for this purpose, to have taken with us more of the ooksook of the seal taken the day previous; but we expected to have captured another by that time. We saw two in the morning, but they were shy, and went down. Had it not been for the hummocks, we should have pursued our course toward Hall's Island; but it requires weather in which one can see more than five fathoms ahead to travel safely over such ice.

The land on which we here encamped is an island about a quarter of a mile long, which I have named Sylvia,^[5] at the east side of the entrance to Lupton Channel. When on the highest part of it, about 500 feet above the sea, I drew the following sketch.

Here before me, looking southerly, was the open water of Lupton Channel, which, as my native attendants informed me, never freezes over, in consequence of the swiftly running tides. Yonder, leading south-easterly around the bold front of Lok's Land, is Bear Sound; there, farther south, the low islands; and, showing darkly over these, the open water of Frobisher Bay, and away in the blue distance the huge mountains of Kingaite (Meta Incognita); while there, on the right, and on the left, and behind me, all was solid ice.

On Friday, June 7th, having slept soundly on the rock, we breakfasted on raw seal, and, with the aid of more fuel (another cross-bar) from our sledge, made some hot coffee, which indeed is a great luxury at any time to an arctic

VIEW FROM THE TOP OF SYLVIA ISLAND.

traveller. Not long after, Ebierbing started on ahead, while Koodloo struck tupic, harnessed the dogs, and packed the kummitie, and I triangulated and made observations for time, latitude, &c. With beautiful weather and a cloudless sky, Koodloo and myself left Sylvia Island, though not before half-past 1 p.m. and travelled on the ice along the coast toward a noble-looking mountain not far off. The dogs flew, for they scented and sighted seals in the bay. At 3 o'clock p.m. we arrived at the base of Jones's Tower,^[6] the mountain just alluded to.

A short time after this I began to ascend Jones's Tower, the mountain which I especially observed for the first time some months before, when entering Field Bay. When near the summit I made the following entry in my note-book:—

"4.47 p.m. With my glass I see that Ebierbing has just killed a seal. Thank God for our daily bread (seal), while we study His glorious works. Thirty seals around the little bay on the ice by their holes, sunning."

At, the top of the tower I took several observations, and then attempted to descend on the opposite side to that by which I had climbed up. But I found here, as I had before, that going down a precipitous mountain is much worse than going up it. I could not manage it by the new route, and therefore had to reascend in order to take the other.

From the summit of this mountain the view was extensive, yet I could not thence discern Frobisher Bay, although, as I then thought, it was not more than from five to seven miles off. I here found a butterfly just bursting its prison walls. The wind at the time was so strong as almost to defy my power of holding on. The place looked like a huge tower rather than a mountain; and on one side of it there was, as it were, a broad highway, leading spirally to within fifty feet of the apex. From this elevation a hundred icebergs were in view. On the way down I found some skeleton bones of a whale, about 300 feet above the sea-ice; and also tufts of grass and some reindeer moss. At the base I found Koodloo and Ebierbing with more seals which they had killed, and a fire made of the small shrub^[7] before mentioned.

In the evening we encamped here, close to Robinson's Bay,^[8] a beautiful sheet of water on the east side of the tower. Here we erected our tupic, such as we could make, and the United States flag floated from its top. Our appearance at that time may be conceived from the following sketch.

ENCAMPMENT AT THE FOOT OF JONES'S TOWER.

Next morning, having a cloudless sky and a gentle breeze (which afterward, however, increased to a strong gale), we pursued our way. In a short time we captured another fine seal, which was deposited en cache, to be available on our return. As we proceeded, scenes of increasing beauty met my eye. The shore of the "dreaded land" presented many features of interest to me, for it was all new, and especially attractive from its associations with the expeditions of Martin Frobisher. On the left were several channels of open water, before and around me were several icebergs frozen in the pack—one berg in particular being very magnificent in appearance, and resembling a Gothic church.

We had now advanced about six miles from Jones's Tower, and had reached Cape Daly,^[9] when the rugged character of the ice hindered our farther progress with the sledge. Koodloo and I therefore walked ahead inland about half a mile to "prospect," and, arriving upon an eminence at the opposite side of the cape, we thence saw that we might have better travelling by rounding it and reaching the other side. Accordingly, we returned to the sledge and refreshed ourselves with a feast of raw seal.

The wind greatly increasing in violence made travelling still more arduous, but we were determined to persevere, and so we rounded the cape, but with great difficulty, owing to hummocky ice and deep, soft snow. Cape Daly is the termination of a neck of land distinguished by a remarkable gap in its ridge.

Resuming our proper course, we hurried forward toward another cape—Cape Hayes^[10]—the most northerly point of Hudson's Island.^[11] There we again prospected, and found it would be impossible to proceed farther with the sledge on account of the hummocky ice in our way.

Hall's Island at this time was less than two miles distant; but to reach it by our present course, on the northern side of Hudson's Island, was an utter impossibility, in consequence of the indescribably rugged ice with which M'Clintock Channel^[12] was firmly packed.

While examining Cape Hayes we came to circles of stones, evidently placed there many years ago by the Innuits that formerly inhabited this now forsaken land; but beyond this, nothing worthy of note was to be seen. We therefore returned to the sledge, and thence back about a quarter of a mile to a bight flanked by high mountains.

While Koodloo and Ebierbing were here erecting a tent, I ascended one of these mountains, and thence discovered to the south-west, between Lok's Land and Hudson's Island, a channel that no white man (unless of Frobisher's expedition) ever saw before—a channel that probably no Innuit of any late generation had ever visited. The next day, June 9th, we pursued our journey down through Dr. Kane's Channel,^[13] which connects Frobisher Bay with Field Bay; the extreme land, which I especially desired to visit, lying from five to seven miles to the east of the lower or southern termination of said channel. The sledge went swiftly, bounding from snow-wreath to snow-wreath, but I managed to pencil down my notes as we rode along.

Never did I see a more interesting sight than that now presented. Wherever my eye turned, seals appeared in great numbers on the ice by their holes; and, as may be supposed from what I have previously said of the Innuit character, it was quite hopeless to expect that my companions, or the dogs, would attend to my wishes in getting forward. No; a "seal-hunt" was inevitable; and away we went at the rate of ten miles an hour, bounding like deer over the smooth ice, and were quickly among the animals, dealing death around. It was the work of but a few moments; and the very notes from which I now write were recorded as I sat by a seal-hole, the water of which was crimsoned with blood, some of which still marks the page before me. Around me was a scene of death. Our captured seals were now so many that my Innuit companions did not know what to do with them. They appeared almost crazy with joy, at least so far as they are capable of showing signs of extravagant delight in matters of this kind.

Ebierbing said that, "although they had all dreaded this land, it was a good land, and now he was not sorry he had come. There was plenty land—plenty water—plenty seal—and nobody there!"

In addition to the numerous seals, we soon afterward came across polar bear-tracks, and could see where Bruin had torn up the sea-ice in his path. But just then we would not stop for anything except for Ninoo. It was "onward" with us now. The way was clear, the day fine, and good prospects before us for getting around to "Hall's Island" of Frobisher, to the extreme eastern limit of all that land toward the great sea. Therefore I urged my companions on, though it was with some difficulty I could persuade Koodloo to accompany us. He had been uncomfortable from the moment we had trodden upon a portion of the "dreaded land," and now that we were going round it by the "big waters," which had carried off so many of his people, he was in a state of great agitation. But I succeeded in persuading him to stay with us, especially as I promised to return as soon as I had visited the extreme land.

As we opened out to the south, and arrived where we had expected to see the entrance of Frobisher Bay frozen and solid like Field Bay, which we had just left, my astonishment was great to see, at a short distance from us, open water, with numerous icebergs drifting, and a heavy sea rolling in, and beating on the edge of the floe.

About noon we stopped to allow Koodloo to make up to a seal that he was desirous of obtaining, and I was as deeply interested as ever in the way in which he contrived to get so near his intended prey. While the seal would be taking his "cat-nap" (a sleep often to fifteen seconds), Koodloo made his approach by hitches, propelling himself along, recumbent on his side, by one foot, till he got close up, say within twelve fathoms of it. During the seal's watchful moments it seemed to be charmed by the peculiar talk, and by the scratching noise made by the sealer. But the animal proved too shy; the charm was broken, and down through its hole in the ice it plunged; and away we went again, our course leading us close by the side of the expanse of open water, in and upon which were numerous seals and ducks, giving evidence of animal life here in abundance. The seals were frequently hunted; and although it did not aid our progress, yet it served to relieve the tedium, and give excitement to our journey.

We now neared the land; and when within half a mile of "Hall's smaller island" of Frobislier, I went on by myself, leaving Ebierbing to occupy himself among the seals.

On my walk I saw numerous bear-tracks, and such other evidence around me that I could not help exclaiming, "This outcast region is indeed one of plenty instead of barrenness!"

In a few moments I was on the top of the highest elevation of "Hall's smaller island," and from it took several compass bearings as I viewed the scene around. But I was unable to stay long; and intending to revisit the spot, I soon went back to the sledge.

During my absence two seals had been killed; but unnecessarily, for it was impossible to carry more than their skins and livers with us. Still, wherever a seal was observed, the two Innuits would away after it. This seriously delayed us, and it was near midnight before we got back to our previous night's encampment on the northern side of Hudson's Island, where we again rested.

The next day, Monday, June 10th, we once more passed through Dr. Kane's Channel, and at 8.47 p.m. reached the middle of the south shore of Hall's Island. Here we encamped by a little cove on this shore, near the west end of the channel which runs on the north side of the small island which I ascended the day previous. Ebierbing went to seek fuel, which he found on the shore of our little bay in the shape of drift-wood. Koodloo and he then prepared our food, while I was off to ascend the mountain that flanked the place of our encampment. On the top of this mountain I found an Innuit monument which evidently had been erected centuries before, for it was black with the moss of ages.

The "monument" was a very long stone stuck up between two larger ones, and the whole made firm by other stones wedged in, and in a way peculiarly Innuitish.

The view from the summit was fine. Meta Incognita, Cornelius Grinnell Bay, Field Bay, Davis's Straits, and Frobisher Bay, were all in sight. Inshore of me there was a beautiful lakelet a mile long and half a mile wide, surrounded by several hills of rugged rock, that contrasted strangely with its smooth and uniform white.

After spending a short time upon the summit, I began my descent, when, as I turned toward the north, what was my great astonishment and joy to peceive a vessel—a steamer—with English colours, close to the land! There was the black hull, the smoke-stack, and everything about her seemed plainly visible. In a moment I was back to the summit for a more distinct view, and saw her tack ship again and again, presenting first one side of her hull and then the other, as she worked up and down the open "lead" (a narrow channel of water in the ice), close by the shore.

What my thoughts were I leave the reader to judge. I was all but overpowered with joy. I should now hear news of my native home—perhaps of dear friends. I should again mingle with the inner world of civilization, and hear tidings of what was going on in the ever-changing theatre of active and social life at home. I should probably know who had been elected President of the United States, and how my own country progressed in national weal.^[14] This and much more I should learn if I made speed and could get on board before this stranger vessel moved too far away.

Accordingly, I rapidly descended to the encampment, and told Ebierbing and Koodloo what I had seen. Not a moment was lost in getting ready for a walk across the land to the other side. Loaded guns were taken for the purpose of firing a signal, that the vessel might send us a boat; and away we went, hurrying along as fast as the rugged surface of the ground would permit.

How beautiful was the picture fancy painted in my mind while we were thus hurrying across the island from its south to its north shore. How eagerly I wished we were there, and ready to push off on the ice, if need be, to visit the stranger. What surprise, too, I thought within myself, would be occasioned by our coming from the "dreaded" land, especially seeing me, a civilized man, alone with the natives.

But all my pleasant visions and romantic fancies were suddenly and rudely dispelled when we reached the other side, and stood upon a spot near the north shore. No ship—no vessel was there! Had she disappeared? No. The object upon which I had gazed with such a transport of feeling was indeed there before me, as I had seen it from above; but what was my disappointment—my utter amazement and chagrin, when I found that the supposed steamer was only a remarkably-shaped portion of the mountain's side! Never before had I been so completely deceived; and perhaps, had I had my perspective glass with me, I might have detected the mistake while upon the mountain-top. Yet even now, after the illusion was dispelled, I was astonished at the similitude which nature had here pourtrayed of a steam vessel. The black of that projecting rock, with the white snow apparently standing out apart from the mountain-side to which it belonged, made up a figure so completely like that of a ship, and my change of position at every few steps so magically represented the appearance of repeated tacking, that only the close inspection which I was now making could convince me of the illusion. But it was now dispelled. It was almost cruel, if I may venture to use such a term, to awake me from my late dream of expected joy to the reality of so great a disappointment. However, so it was; and if anything would have relieved my vexation, it was the blank look of astonishment depicted on the features of my two companions on ascertaining the truth. Strange to say, by the time we had arrived at the spot where the best view of it could be obtained, it looked no more like a vessel than a cow! One glance, and we turned away—I in disgust.

Our journey back was anything but agreeable; but we took it leisurely, and at half-past 1 a.m. of the 11th arrived at our encampment.

In speaking to Ebierbing about the reasons for the Innuits deserting a place which we now had evidence to show was abounding with animal life, he told me that the dread of it could not be removed. It had left upon the minds of all Innuits an impression of horror which descended from parent to child, and was likely to last for a long time. Even he himself would not have come now but for much persuasion and the influence of the civilized white man over the dark races, besides his strong personal attachment to me. As for Koodloo, he had been induced by the example and persuasions of Ebierbing more than by any favourable feelings on his own part. After he had arrived here, it was plain to me he regretted it; and possibly, in his inner soul, "the mysterious ship" may have added to his superstitious feelings concerning the place.

While returning from this trip across Hall's Island, Ebierbing related to me the following anecdote, prefacing it by the simple remark that the breaking away of the sea-ice and carrying off one or more Innuits is not a rare occurrence. Once two of his people were driven out of Cornelius Grinnell Bay while on the ice sealing. The ice finally brought up against Lady Franklin's Island,^[15] twenty-five miles from the main land, upon which island the forlorn Innuits landed. Here they lived for several months on ducks, walrus, bears, and seals, which they found there in abundance. They did not make their appearance for months, and were given up as lost. But, to the surprise of every one, they ultimately returned, having effected their escape by means of "floats" made of the skins of seals which they had killed. I may here mention that also, in returning on the before-described vexatious walk, we noticed a wall of stone—moss-covered stone—at the outlet of the lakelet, which was made, as Ebierbing said, by his people that had lived a great many years before, for a hiding-place, to enable them to kill tuktoo as they followed along their path, which was close by. Numerous old bones of this animal we saw by this wall.

On the 11th of June, at noon, I put on a rock a delicately-balanced compass needle, the north pole of which stood on zero. At 12 midnight it was one degree west of zero. At 3.30 a.m. of the 12th it was one degree east of zero point; but more about this in its proper place.

On the same day, the 11th, half a mile north-west, on the top of the mountain in the rear of our camp, I took bearings of various prominent places; and while taking the angle of an island five miles distant to the south, Ebierbing and Koodloo with me, the former, looking around with the glass, suddenly exclaimed, "Ninoo! Ninoo!" pointing, at the same time, in the direction of the very island I was sighting. In an instant Koodloo rushed off to harness up the dogs, and I after him, Ebierbing remaining behind for a moment to watch the bear's movements. Presently I decided upon returning to continue my work and let both the Innuits go in chase. Reascending to the spot I had left, I continued to the northward and westward till I had ascended a still higher mountain, the table-topped "Mount Warwick" of Frobisher.

There I remained for hours, with changes of the atmosphere so tantalizing that it vexed me greatly. One moment there was a beautiful sky, the next everything was enveloped in thick fog. So it continued, calm as a summer's day at home, not a cloud in the sky as the fog lifted, the sun shining brightly for a moment, and anon darkened by impenetrable vapour. I was greatly disappointed. I had fixed a capital point by sun to take my angles of various mountains, bays, headlands, &c., but, in consequence of the state of the weather, was obliged to leave my work incomplete.

In descending to a lower point, I distinctly saw Meta Incognita, the fog having dispersed in that direction. Also I saw Resolution Island, which bore S. 12° W. (true).

I returned to the camp shortly after, but Ebierbing and Koodloo had not yet returned.

While waiting for the two Innuits, I gathered some fuel, kindled a fire, and filled the tea-kettle to make coffee. Presently I heard the crack of my rifle, and concluded that another seal was killed, little imagining what had actually occurred. But near midnight, when Ebierbing and Koodloo arrived, they told me that not only one of the largest-sized seals (ookgook) was killed, but also the bear. I could hardly believe them. A bear? It was too much to believe. I could readily conceive that they had succeeded with seals, but that they had captured the bear, and without the smallest signs of any struggle, was almost incredible. I could not, therefore, help laughing at Ebierbing as he persisted in the statement; and I said to him, "You are making game of me" On the instant he replied, "Come to the sledge (which was only a short distance off) and see." There, true enough, was Ninoo's skin, with portions of the meat; and now we had beef in abundance. The ookgook had been left on the ice, at the edge of the floe by the open water.

Ebierbing told me that they went over to the mountain island where he had first espied the bear, and saw the brute lying down. On their approach he sprung up and darted away. Three of the dogs were immediately let loose by cutting the traces with which they were harnessed to the sledge. After these three had started, the remaining dogs were cast adrift, and soon overtook the other dogs, and assisted in bringing the bear to bay. They barked, bit, struggled, and fought bravely, the bear doing his best to defend himself. Now and then Ninoo would start to run, but the dogs were quickly fast to his stern, turning him round more rapidly than the rudder does a ship under a nine-knot breeze.

The dog and bear fight continued for half an hour, when Ebierbing, getting as favourable an opportunity as he desired, sent the messenger of death to Ninoo's heart.

The bear was very fat, as all polar bears in the neighbourhood of the "deserted land" must be, in consequence of the immense number of seals there. His stomach was filled to its utmost capacity, and, Innuit-like, the two men took care of every portion that was serviceable.

The bear was immediately skinned, and the best portions of the carcass brought away. The rest was left to feast other animals than man. On returning from this bear hunt, Ebierbing shot the ookgook which he referred to.

Our feast that night was uncommonly good. Some of the fat, with portions of the lean, was well cooked; and when we lay down to rest, I would not wager that our stomachs were not as widely distended as had been that of the defunct Ninoo.

I may here mention that the bear's bladder was inflated and hung up to the pole of our tupic, and, according to Innuit customs, should remain there three days.

NORTH FORELAND OF FROBISHER.

Early in the morning of Wednesday, the 12th of June, I was up, and ready for a proposed trip. It had been decided to set out this day on our return to the ship, but I could not think of leaving this interesting region without visiting the utmost extreme of land—the "North Foreland" of Frobisher. Leaving my two companions asleep, I walked off alone. The snow was deep and soft, making my travelling laborious. When about half-way, I ascended a hill that overlooks the channel between "Hall's Island" and "Hall's smaller island." The channel was free from ice save near its west end, close by the little bay of our encampment, and presented an animated picture of life, for seals and aquatic birds in great variety were sporting there. But as only a brief time remained for this journey, I was obliged to hasten on. At length, after a laborious walk, I reached "North Foreland," the goal of my ambition in this pleasant trip.

Here the view was as enchanting as it was extensive. The sea around, as far as the eye could reach, was open; yet much ice, in the various forms of "sconce" pieces, floes, and bergs, was drifting about.

"North Foreland" presented a bold front. As I looked down from its heights (an elevation of several hundred feet), the sea was "playing fantastic tricks," its mighty waves dashing in quick succession against the rocky rampart by which I was shielded, leaping upward as if to meet and greet me, saying, "White man, we saw your namesake here nearly three hundred years ago; where is he now?"

Nearly south of North Foreland are three islets, the nearest one-fourth of a mile off shore. The largest is a quarter of a mile long, and is distinguished by a prominent rock that looks like a huge bee-hive, with smaller ones on each side of it. The others are quite small, being respectively about seventy and a hundred and forty fathoms in length. In every direction about here I saw recent traces of reindeer and rabbits, also circles of stones, and other signs of Innuits having lived here long ago.

The following are some of the measurements which I made while on this morning walk: The width of North Foreland (which is the eastern extremity of Hall's Island), measuring it a short distance back from the cliff, is about a quarter of a mile. Hall's Island extends a mile farther eastward than "Hall's smaller island." The latter is eight-tenths of a mile in length.

After spending an hour at this interesting spot, taking bearings of distant objects, and observing the general appearance of the locality, I reluctantly retraced my steps to our encampment, a distance of two miles, where I found on the sledge everything in readiness for our departure.

At 9.19 a.m. we set out on our return to Rescue Harbour. When out on the sea-ice, we stopped by the edge of the floe, next the open water, at the carcass of the ookgook killed by Ebierbing the day before. In the dilemma which followed as to what we should do with it, I proposed that it should be carried to land and buried under heavy stones, supposing that Captain B——, then at Cape True with his men, might send a boat's crew round by Frobisher Bay, which was all open water, and get the blubber, and perhaps the meat, and also some of our deposited seals. But Ebierbing assured me that it mattered not what might be the size or the weight of the stones covering it, Ninoo would find out the deposit and rip it up. It was finally concluded to save only the skin. To effect this, they girdled the animal's body, cutting the skin transversely in widths of about five or six inches, and then slipped it off in cylinders, each of which was to be afterward cut spirally, making a long strip of skin, which is of great value for walrus and seal lines, and dog-traces. This ookgook was an object of more than common interest. Though so easily despatched—the rifle ball, on penetrating his skull, causing instant death—yet, as Ebierbing pointed out, it bore numerous marks of wounds received in a conflict with a polar bear. It had had a struggle with its mighty foe, and had escaped.

We did not get ready to proceed on our journey until 12 a.m. We then crossed the floe at the south side of Hudson's Island, taking the same route we had travelled three times before. When we were nearly through Kane's Channel, and while I was examining its shores, having occasion to make some record, I opened the covers of my note-book, and found, to my consternation, that its contents were gone! I knew not what to do. I felt that, if they should not be recovered, most of what were to me the important notes that I had taken on this trip would be useless, owing to the break in my narrative which the loss of these would occasion. My hope of recovering them was indeed slight, for my record had been kept on a few small oblong leaves of paper, slightly stitched together, which the wind might speedily scatter away. Still, I determined to go back and search for them, Ebierbing agreeing to accompany me.

We made our way back over rugged ice and snow by following our own tracks; but the wind, then from the southeast, blew at right angles, and made it less likely that we should succeed. Ebierbing went ahead, a little on one side, and I kept straight on the course by which we had come. Thus we retraced our steps for some three miles, when, to my great joy, I heard Ebierbing shout, "Ni-ne-va-ha! Ni-ne-va-ha!"—I have found it! I have found it! And, sure enough, there, in his hands, I saw my little note-book, which he had just picked up.

The distance we had traversed was three and a half miles, so that, in returning to the spot from which we had set out, we had walked full seven miles. This, however, was not of much account in comparison with the value of my note-book.

I had directed Koodloo to proceed with the sledge; but before we had reached him a furious gale from the north-east broke upon us, accompanied with much snow. This threatened an end to our day's travel, and I therefore determined to encamp as soon as possible.

We traced Koodloo by the sledge-tracks down Allen Young's Bay,^[16] near some sheltering land, and there found him, on the lee side of the sledge, flat on the snow, asleep! yes, sound asleep, and covered with drift, while the gale was beating around, and roaring almost with a voice of thunder. So thick and fast did the snow come down that we could not see a dozen yards before us. Yet here did Koodloo—as most Innuits can—sleep away as undisturbed by the storm as if in his tent. Here a great danger threatened us. This gale might break up the ice; and if so, and we were encamped on an island, escape would be impossible, for we had no boat. The wind was so furious that we could hardly stand erect, and already it was tearing up the ice in all directions about the main bay. It was an awkward position, and one that I had anticipated. But it was necessary immediately to prepare some shelter, and accordingly we selected a spot on a point of low land, north of and near Dillon Mountain, where Innuits evidently had erected their tupics very many years before. Bones of seal and walrus, fragments of wood, and circles of stones, showed the dwelling-places of Esquimaux who had lived there before the land became abhorred.

The erection of our tent was a matter of great difficulty. One of us had to stand up before the blast to break its force, another to erect the tupic, and the third to try to make it stand. Placing the covering over the tent-poles was a toil especially arduous. The wind seemed to press with a force of tons. Flap, flap went the canvas, beating us about, and giving us such bruises that several times I thought it impossible to get through with the task. But at length it was accomplished. All the crevices were filled with moss, so as to render the admission of fine snow nearly impossible; and thus, in the teeth of a remarkably heavy gale, we finally succeeded in getting as much shelter as could be expected under such circumstances. The next day, June 13th, the gale continued with unabated fury to 11 a.m. Most of the time during this storm we had to keep inside the tent; and whenever we did venture out, it was necessary to use great care, lest the force of the wind should throw us down. That the tent stood was a marvel. But stand it did, and gave us shelter until Friday the 14th, about 12 meridian, when we resumed our homeward route.

Our journey was comparatively rapid. We arrived at Sylvia Island at 10 p.m. without any obstacle save in rounding Cape Daly, though the seaward ice was anything but safe; and after resting and partaking of coffee prepared with a tent-pole for fuel, we made a direct course for the ship. Now came the danger. Everywhere the ice was cracked, or moving, or gone! We carefully pursued our way, literally with fear and trembling. Not for one moment was our footing safe. The thick-ribbed ice was broken into every conceivable form and size, and nothing but the absolute necessity of avoiding detention on the islands would have

HOMEWARD BOUND—ICE BREAKING UP.

induced us to venture on the treacherous footing; but it was our only hope under heaven—our only means of escape—and upon it, and across it, we pursued our way.

To add to the dangers of our situation, a thick mist soon settled upon us; and there we were, three men, the dogs, and sledge, on the broken ice, in the middle of a bay wide open to the sea. Even the Innuits were more than usually alarmed, and finally became so confused that they wandered out of the proper course; and it was only through my insisting that my compass was the best guide that, after going three miles out of our way, we at last arrived safely on board the ship at 10.37 a.m. on Saturday, the 15th of June.

Thankful was I that we met with no serious accident; and this was the more extraordinary considering our rate of travelling (we were only twenty hours coming from near Dr. Kane's Channel) and the dangerous character of the ice over which we had come.

As an instance of what can be accomplished in securing the means of sustaining life in the arctic regions, I will here give a few particulars bearing upon the subject, and belonging to this particular journey.

We set out with—

20 sea-biscuits, weight	5	lbs.
Salt-junk biscuits, weight„	6	lbs.„
Coffee and pepper, say	1	lbs.„
Total provisions for the three	11	lbs.
Powder	1	lb.
Balls, in number	30.
1 rifle, 1 gun, 2 seal spears, with lines and harpoons.

We were away ten days, and in that time obtained—

1 polar bear, equal to	1000	lbs.
ookgook (largest-sized seal)	1500	lbs.„
9 seals	1800	lbs.„
Making a total of	4300	lbs.

—that is, over two tons of fresh meat, besides skins for clothing, and oil for fuel and light.

Most of the meat and blubber we deposited en cache, and the ookgook we left on the ice; but we were obliged to abandon all, excepting a very little blubber, and the small proportion of meat which was consumed by ourselves and the dogs. The skins we saved.

1. Hall's Island, lat. 62° 88′ N. long. 64° 00′ W. and Bear Sound, lat. 62° 31′ N. long. 64° 50′ W. were so named by Frobisher; the former after Christopher Hall, master of the Gabriel, of the expedition of 1576; the latter after James Bear, master of the Michael, one of the expedition ships of 1577.
2. This prominent and peaked mountain I have named in honour of a warm friend of arctic explorations, J. D. Dillon, of London, England. It is in lat. 62° 32′ N. and long. 64° 12′ W.
3. The land which I think I have identified as the one so named by Frobisher in honour of Michael Lok, one of the earliest, warmest, and most liberal supporters of his (Frobisher's) expeditions of 1576, '7, and '8.

   "Lok's Land" is an island on the east side of Bear Sound and Lupton Channel, and extends easterly eighteen nautical miles; its width is twelve. It is called by the natives Ki-ki-tuk-ju-a, which means Long Island. The centre of "Lok's Land" is in lat. 62° 29′ N. long. 64° 28′. W. (See Chart.)

4. I have named the channel uniting the waters of Field Bay to Bear Sound after James Lupton, of Cincinnati, Ohio, one to whom the Young Men's Mercantile Association of said city owes a debt of gratitude for his great and untiring service in its behalf.

   Lupton Channel (its north termination) is in lat. 62° 35′ N. and long. 64° 38′ W.

5. After the daughter of Henry Grinnell. Sylvia Island is in lat. 62° 35 1/2′ N. long. 64° 36′ W.
6. A mountain I have named after George T. Jones, superintendent of the Cincinnati branch of the American Bank Note Company. Jones's Tower is in lat. 62° 33′ Jr. long. 64° 34′ W. (See Chart.)
7. Andromeda tetragona, a plant of the heath tribe that abounds throughout the arctic regions.
8. This bay I named after Samuel Robinson, of Cincinnati, Ohio.
9. Named in honour of Judge Charles P. Daly, of New York City. Cape Daly is in lat. 62° 35′ N. long. 64° 21′ W.
10. I have named this cape after I. I. Hayes, surgeon of the second Grinnell expedition. Cape Hayes is a low point of land flanked by a high ridge of ragged rocks, and is the north extreme of Hudson's Island.
11. Hudson's Island, so called in honour of Frederick Hudson, of New York, a strong friend of arctic explorations. The centre of this island is in lat. 62° 34′ N. long. 64° 8′ W. Its length is about three miles, extending north and south; width, two miles.
12. The channel between Hall's Island of Frobisher and Hudson's Island (vide Chart) I have denominated M'Clintock Channel, after Captain (now Sir Leopold) M'Clintock, commander of the yacht Fox in search of Sir John Franklin in 1857-9.
13. Thus named in memory of Dr. Kane, the arctic explorer. This channel divides Hudson's Island from Lok's Land.
14. Little did I then dream that my country had been plunged into a cruel civil war!
15. Named by me in honour of Lady Franklin. Lady Franklin Island is in lat. 62° 55′ 30“ N. long. 63° 30′ W.
16. Named in honour of Captain Allen W. Young, second in command under M'Clintock, in search of Sir John Franklin in 1857-9. Allen Young's Bay is in lat. 62° 33′ N. long. 64° 14′ W. its east side bounded by Dillon Mountain.