that these waters are a strait ought not any longer to be entertained.
At 4 p.m. having made a distance of six miles from Peale's Point on a course S. 40° W. true, we entered a channel, with Kingaite on our right and Bishop's Island[1] at our left. The coast on each side was steep, but in many places covered with grass and the usual vegetation to be found here in the North. The entrance to this channel was about half a mile wide; but, on making a quarter of a mile, it brought us into a harbour that appeared to be a fine one, not less than two and a half miles in diameter. Thence we passed on a course nearly south to the west side of the harbour, where we landed, and there made our thirteenth encampment[2] on Kingaite.
Throughout this day, on approaching the islands or main land, I noticed that the water seemed very shallow, and it was certain that no large-sized ships could attempt to reach the head of Frobisher Bay with any degree of safety.
Before arriving at the place of our encampment, I saw the tupics of our other Innuit friends and the curling smoke of their fires. As I landed Koodloo greeted us. He had just come in from his hunt, having shot and secured skins and toodnoo of four deer. This made thirteen that my three men had killed within four days. On making up to our intended encampment, all hands commenced unloading the boat, the females, as was customary, acting as pack-horses in conveying everything up the steep rocks beyond reach of the tide; then they selected a convenient spot and erected the tupics.
A few moments after our arrival, with the "stars and stripes" of my country in one hand and my spyglass in the other, I made my way to the crest of a high hill in the rear of our encampment. Before starting, the sun was down—to us; but, as I reached the summit, his glorious rays burst upon me.
