Greenland by the Polar Sea/Chapter 3

ESKIMO bear-hunters had often told me that on the other side of the "Great Glacier" I should find a country dissimilar to theirs. In many places the cliffs were whitish-grey, in other places their foot showed up black as coal; but only rarely did one find vegetation of any kind in the barren valleys.

Now and then hares would come jumping from the mountain plateaux, and it also happened that the dogs would suddenly scent big game, presumably musk-ox; but in spite of many expeditions inland, these had never been found. What was of most interest to us, however, was that the bear-hunters also spoke of many places along the great headlands where heavy currents met and opened up the ice very early in the year. Many bearded seals were to be found here, which would provide us with a welcome addition to our stores.

It was therefore in a state of great excitement that we approached this country which the Eskimos call Akia—i.e., "the country on the other side of the Great Glacier," whilst the Americans have christened it "Washington Land."

April 20th.—Driving had been easy across the whole of Peabody Bay, so with a distance of 66 kilometres behind us we made camp by an ice-mountain off the cliffs of Cass Bay on the evening of the 20th of April, under a heavy snowfall and growing storm. The next morning we woke up to the same kind of weather, but, as we were all impatient to get northward, we had no time to consider this. Lauge Koch went on land near Cape Clay, whilst I rounded Cass Bay along the ice-foot to see ​if I could not come across winter-houses which might continue the chain of the surprisingly many we had passed at Inglefield Land. The result was a negative one, and we had to be contented with the finding of a number of meat-pits of the ordinary Eskimo type; a single tent-ring we also found, but it was a square one, and therefore would be one of the remains from Morton's and Hans Hendrik's voyage.

Late in the evening we came back to the tent-camp, with wind-bitten faces and stiff limbs, and soon discovered that something joyous must have happened. The camp was in a tumult. The Eskimos ran towards us with loud shouts, and now and then they would spring up in the air slapping their thighs—always a sign of happiness. As soon as we were within shouting distance, we were informed that Koch and Inukitsoq had shot a bear off Cape Clay, and the "Star" and Majaq had slain another two bears not far from the tent-camp. This news meant fresh and savoury meat in the pots for many a day ahead, and a change in diet from walrus to bear is always beneficial.

In addition to the successful bear-hunt, Koch had had a great geological success, as he had found rich stone-bearing strata on the stretch of coast which he had examined.

Nothing is more stimulating on a voyage than the success of a comrade, and as the results of the day had been rather poor so far as I was concerned, I decided to continue the journey towards Humboldt's Glacier on the next day whilst my comrades continued northward. At this early stage of the voyage we could not afford to let the whole of the expedition wait for me, wherefore I must try to make a double journey and overtake the others in the course of the next two days.

I knew there ought to be houses in the vicinity, as many hunters, through their parents, had heard tales of a camp north of Humboldt's Glacier; but nobody knew where it was situated, and the problem was to find the place. I therefore started my journey in along the coast early next day, while all the other sledges in a long row continued slowly northward. Koch wished to pay a supplementary call at Cape Clay, and ​with Inukitsoq as our companion we started explorations in good spirits, having firmly decided not to give up. We progressed along the ice-foot, so that nothing could escape our attention. The passage here was often impossible and certain distances had to be driven on a most uncomfortable Sikûssaq ice, a sign that the bays here are hardly ever free of ice.

At last, 12 kilometres east of Cape Clay, some way into Benton's Bay, my toil was rewarded with success. The icefoot in this place was very high and ridged, but a sudden impulse made me stop by one of the most inaccessible places, and I climbed upwards across neck-breaking ridges. My instinctive scent of houses was correct, for before me lay the camp for which I had searched in vain. It consisted of altogether six winter-houses, numerous tent-circles, and large, roomy meat-pits. The houses were built right on the beach on sand and pebbles. The material consisted entirely of stones, flat and oblong, and although some of them were not quite small, it was easy to see that it had been difficult to procure fitting material. A well-built house has an elaborate joining of walls and roof, but there was no sign at all of any such arrangements here. In spite of a thorough examination, I did not find any kind of vegetation in the vicinity. One of the houses was square, which is quite unusual in Eskimo architecture and must owe its form to consideration of the material. The others were of the usual beehive shape. We found only one remarkably large house, a so-called Quarajalik, consisting of two houses built together, but with a common entrance. Whale-ribs were also found built into the houses; they seemed to be inevitable in the architecture of this district.

The meat-pits were similar in form and size to those we had measured and sketched in Melville Bay; in some instances the stones had been put on edge—an uncommon method. Furthermore we found Qulisivit—stone hives wherein meat is dried. All this bore witness that the catch here had been a good one.

In addition to the ruins already mentioned I found ten tent-rings. Some of these were unusually large and built with ​comparatively high stone walls, so that they gave one the impression of having been a sort of structure between a house and a tent. It may be that lack of material has led to an invention peculiar to this locality.

I have mentioned the excellent conditions for seal-hunting which this neighbourhood offers; even for Eskimos with very primitive hunting gear it cannot have been difficult to procure their daily food. The catch must have been chiefly seal, and there may also have been, especially in spring and autumn, a good hunt of ice-bears in Peabody Bay, and of reindeer and musk-ox in Inglefield Land.

April 23rd.—I was glad that the energetic explorations during these latter days had given such good results; for the ruins found and measured by me pushed the record of Eskimo ruins to the north side of Humboldt's Glacier; and as my aim was to collect material for a contribution to a study of the Eskimos' wanderings north of Greenland, I considered the start made was a good one. The point was now to prove whether camps had existed further ahead along our route; and even if at the outset one might take it for granted, with some degree of certainty, that habitation must have been somewhat fitful all the way along this inhospitable coast, I had some reason to hope for decisive results in the great fjords between Cape Bryan and Cape Washington north of de Long Fjord.

Encouraged by our good luck, we set out at once to overtake our comrades and the pack-sledges which had already a day's start of us.

Near Cape Webster we met Uvdloriaq, previously a member of the first Thule Expedition. He was now engaged with a pack-sledge, and although he originally should have accompanied us right up to Cape Constitution, he had had to stop here, as severe and painful sciatica prevented him from navigating the sledge across the pressure-ice and on the, in some places, rather awkward ice-foot.

Round this steep red cape a fresh wind and a sweeping snow-spray is always blowing, and Uvdloriaq had been forced, in spite of his pains, to build himself a snow-hut against the ​mountain-side. Here we stopped, and as we found Koch busily collecting fossils a little way ahead, we took the opportunity to make ourselves a cup of cocoa to celebrate as cheerfully as possible the parting with our old comrade.

The whole coast of Washington Land had, like Inglefield Land, a broad ice-foot where driving was easy; we first mounted this at Cape Webster, as the sea-ice up to that point had been good. After an hour's rest we continued the journey, but unfortunately we did not succeed in overtaking our comrades on that day, for when we came to Morris Bay we had covered a distance of 90 kilometres; we ourselves were sleepy, and it is always unwise to overstrain the dogs at the start.

The coast mountains, reaching a height of from 200 to 300 metres, were everywhere rich in fossils and often of unusual beauty. The reaches from Cape Webster to Wright Bay especially impressed us. Here we found limestone mountains of phantastic formation, with grey, cold colours at their foot, and near the summit glowing red shades finely attuned. The formations themselves with their massive contours led one's thoughts back to the burghs of the Middle Ages, where the wide gateways were not the least imposing feature of this natural architecture. Near Cape Callhourn the country changed character. The steep mountain-sides, which gave an impression of sky-scrapers—because we on the ice-foot drove right underneath them—were relieved by low country sloping evenly and picturesquely upwards; simultaneously the ice-foot turned into a broad and snowless chaussée which made the dogs go for dear life.

We looked in vain for game. Sometimes the dogs got the scent, so that any moment we expected to see the black fluttering coat of a musk-ox in one of the broad-bottomed cloughs. But nothing living could we discover.

We made camp hurriedly and after six hours' rest we continued, to overtake our comrades at last near Cape Jefferson; they had camped right off a coral reef which, in this landscape, had a paradoxical effect.

​The reunion was a merry one. They had shot a small bear, which was already half eaten when we arrived; and, in spite of its shyness, a small hare also had had to lay down its life for Tornge's sure aim. The antlers of a reindeer which were found a short distance inland we looked at with interest.

After a short rest, during which we were given our part of the tender bear-flesh, we drove on and reached in the morning Cape Constitution, having passed a lot of pressure-ice in Lafayette Bay.

April 24th.—In Lafayette Bay the dogs had repeatedly got the scent, and after some minutes of hot pursuit we had as a rule met with fresh tracks. But as it was difficult to follow the trails across the awkward pressure-ridges, where the sledges frequently toppled over among the uneven ice-blocks, we had had to give up the hunt. But the dogs' keenness was now aroused, and although the journeys of the last few days had been very long, and the load on the sledges weighed at least 500 kilograms, the speed increased during the night. In the neighbourhood of the big Crozier Island the dogs forgot all their weariness and galloped along towards Cape Constitution.

During the monotonous everyday drive the dogs are always hypnotized forward by the will of the driver; herein lies all the art of dog-driving. But if something unusual happens and the dogs stand trembling against the wind with quivering nostrils, then it is often the animal which influences the man. Thus it was to-day; even we were smitten with the contagious hunting fever.

Hardly had we pulled in under the grey mountain-sides when off they rushed with us. Three times fresh bear-tracks pointed forward, and the dogs, who had been cheated several times during the day, now seemed firmly decided to overtake the bear so that the journey might end with a meal of fresh meat.

The wind had blown away the snow along the mountain-sides, and the sledges shot across little blocks of pressure-ice with such speed that I often feared that the runners would break. In a bay between Cape Constitution and Cape Independence I made a halt by an ice-mountain, well adapted ​for a camping-ground. The dogs were very disappointed because the hunt had been interrupted, and gave vent to their impatience with a loud yelping which made the echoes vibrate between the steep mountains of the bay.

A little way behind me the other sledges came on, and as soon as they discovered that I was on the point of unloading, they gave their dogs the bear-signal and came rushing towards me at a desperate speed. We spread out over the ice in different directions, but even here it was difficult to follow the tracks because the snow had drifted so firmly together that no marks were left after the bears' paws. After four hours' tracking we had to give up the hunt, and one by one the sledges returned to the camp, slowly and hesitatingly, with disappointed drivers and disgusted dogs.

But up above from the highest summit of Cape Constitution a falcon sailed down to meet us; proud and silent, it swept towards us with pointed wings restfully spread out, to bid us welcome to its royal hunting-grounds. But as it reached our camp and set its little cold eyes on our loads which, in our eagerness for the hunt, we had thrown about in wild disorder, we heard a screech which quickly turned into derisive laughter.

It saw in an instant that this was not a meeting with competitors, and to show its contempt it beat out in a quick circle across the ice where the bears had escaped.

We all stood near our sledges, looking after it with poorly disguised envy; for we knew that the falcon would, with the same shrill laughter, in the course of a few minutes glide above the big game which in vain we had tracked all through the day.

April 25th.—For the last time we made a large camp. Five pack-sledges must now return, so that only two men remained to accompany us to Hall's Grave.

But before the sledges left us, we were to write our last letters home; for one of the musk-ox hunters we met at Anoritok, and who lived right down by Cape Seddon in the ​southern part of Melville Bay, had promised to wait for our mail. From Cape Seddon they would be brought by one of the whalers by the end of May to the district of Upernivik, from whence they would reach Denmark some time during the course of the summer.

Our camp was bitterly cold and there was a strong wind, but nevertheless we worked busily at our reports; the already considerable collection of fossils was suitably packed for being sent southward.

In the afternoon everything was ready, and the pack-sledges at once started on the homeward journey so that they might not unnecessarily waste our provisions and the food for our dogs. Their departure was quick and without ceremony, as is the custom amongst hunters; but we knew that their thoughts would often dwell on our fate, for they are all men whose lives have been spent on long journeys, and they know by experience how quickly evil and good interchange in the life of a hunter.

They are: The great Tornge, who, after an unsuccessful journey towards the North Pole, has fought for life through a long winter by the big Lake Hazen in Grant Land; the handsome Pauluna, who has shared in the adventurous winterings by Cape Sheridan; and finally Majaq, the courageous hunter who played the part of the northernmost provision dealer in the world at Renslaer Harbour.

When we took leave of these men something happened which moved me deeply. Besides those mentioned as returning, young Inukitsoq was also present; he had his baptism of fire during the first Thule Expedition, and together with Uvdloriaq he is well known to those who have read my travelling diary of 1912. Once during serious difficulties we promised each other that we would never undertake such a journey again. Inukitsoq kept his word, I broke mine. We remembered this incident during all the fun of leave-taking, which the Eskimos appreciate so highly, and he became suddenly very serious and went up to his team of dogs, which is renowned throughout the tribe as the strongest and most ​enduring. Without a word he unharnessed three of his strongest and best dogs and brought them to me with the proposal that I should exchange for them the three poorest ones of my team. Only the man who knows the value of sledge-dogs will be able to appreciate this friendly act.

In the afternoon, immediately after the pack-sledges had left, we made ready to break camp, and drove off in the cool sunlit night northward along Brown's coast. We constantly came across bear-tracks, but having gained experience through our many unsuccessful attempts, we decided not to put an extra strain on the dogs; keenness for the hunt wears then down, especially when the result is a negative one.

Some way out on Kennedy Channel we met with a high, difficult pressure-ridge, through which we had to hew our way with axes. It represents several years of Polar-ice which has drifted into the channel and been ground together by current and wind. For long stretches we passed the ill-famed Sikûssaq, which is so dangerous for heavy-laden sledges. And right enough, one of our sledges was driven to pieces. When we had tied it together with straps we decided to break through towards land; we succeeded, and here, to our great joy, we found good and easy new ice.

April 26th.—Thanks to this circumstance, we reached the south-west side of Cape Bryan, where we made camp at ten o'clock in the morning during the beginning of a snowstorm. The distance covered during the day's journey of fourteen hours was 66 kilometres, in spite of considerable delays caused by the pressure-ice. All through the night we had a view of the steep coast mountains on Grinnell's Land, which with their glacier-swathed peaks looked like spirit forms against the banal pressure-ice of Kennedy Channel.

Thanks to the snowstorm, we had our first long and unstinted sleep since the departure from Etah. The violent gusts which occasionally swept down from the 300 metres high mountains occasionally threatened to tear down the tent above our heads; but the thin canvas bravely resisted the attack of the ​storm, and we were warm and comfortable in our sleeping-bags and relished doubly the sweetness of rest which is the reward only of honest toil.

April 27th.—A little after midnight we woke up and pulled ourselves together sufficiently to make a refreshing cup of cocoa; then, as the storm persisted in sweeping across the tents and seemed to be still on the increase, we let sleep have its will with us and slept sweetly until dawn. We then broke camp and continued. Taught by yesterday's experience, we kept closely to land, occasionally driving upon the ice-foot wherever this was possible. Thus driving was fairly easy along our route, whilst out in the channel the pressure-ice was even worse than on the previous day.

Off Cape Bryan we got quite clear of the pressure-ice and made good speed on the almost snowless ice which seemed to have settled late in the autumn. Off Hannah Island we found the carcase of a seal, half-eaten by a bear.

We passed Bessel Fjord in a fresh breeze, and the peculiar indentation, surrounded on all sides by steep mountains intersected by hanging tongues of ice, looked eerie and desolate. We halted by Cape Morton, and as the storm was still on the increase, we succumbed to a momentary laziness and made camp, although we really meant to cross Petermann Fjord on this day.

April 28th.—However, later in the day we found that our laziness was merely a proof that we had eyes in the back of our head as well. This is how it happened:

As soon as the dogs were fed, and the tent stayed so as to be able to withstand the storm, Koch and I decided to take Inukitsoq and set out on a small excursion to the bay in our immediate vicinity. Surrounded by high mountains, the head of the bay looked very inviting with a high terrace-like beach stretching like an amphitheatre up towards a broad, dead glacier.

Here Koch and Inukitsoq found an old depot from Nares' 1875-76 Expedition a little way above the beach. It consisted of six boxes, each containing four 9-pound tins of Australian ​mutton, fresh and delicious as if it had been left only the previous day. Next to the boxes we found a broken barrel marked:

Unfortunately a sweet-toothed bear had been here before us, and this was all the more annoying as sugar happened to be the article which we all coveted. So we had to content ourselves with unusually well-preserved boiled beef. The tins were marked: "Meat Preserving Co., Ltd. Agents, Wotherspoon and Co. Works, Winton Southland, N.Z."

For a long time we were thus able to live grandly on food originally meant for Arctic colleagues who had travelled here before any of us were born. Our thanks to the brave Englishmen who left it here; our compliments to the excellent firm which prepared this durable article!

Besides the mutton we found a large tin containing 20 kilograms of tallow, which was the dogs' share in this unexpected meal.

April 29th.—We had to stay here for yet another day because of the violent storm. Although the snow seemed firm and the ice in many places lay bare and shiny, now and then there was such a thick drift that the high mountains on the other side of Petermann Fjord disappeared. At length, towards evening, the wind calmed down so that we could break up and cross the fjord.

This fjord looked quaint and foreign in its surroundings. Everywhere the mountains along the coast fall steeply down towards the ice, and the dark-brownish tones showed gloomy and serious against the even, white inland-ice which appears everywhere as a bank of white fog behind the coastland. In several places along the fjord, tongues of the glacier shoot. down between the mountains, but at no point here is the production of ice-mountains apparent. On the whole, it seems that the ice up here on the northernmost latitudes differs from the ice further southward, in that in no place does one find real ​ice-mountains. Even the blocks which now and then calve off from Humboldt's Glacier look like huge pieces of Polar-ice. In some places these are rather large, but never did we see them of such a height that they might be called icebergs, such as we know from the glaciers near Inglefield Gulf, Wolstenholme Sound, and Melville Bay.

After a few hours' driving it was manifest that we had been right in waiting whilst the storm was on, for even now. after the snow had ceased to drift, the wind blew so hard from the fjord that we had difficulty in standing when the Föhn-like squalls whirled around us. The sky was uncannily beautiful, with big balloon-like clouds drifting along under the pressure of a hurricane. The ice seemed to have lain immovable here, as it consisted entirely of uneven Sikûssaq. Frequently we were blown out into great basins formed during the ice-melting of the summer, big lakes up to 1 kilometre long covered with fresh-water ice, shiny as a mirror where neither men nor dogs could find a footing. Powerless to resist, we were flung away and slid along limply towards the opposite shore with the sledge in front and the miserably whining dogs behind us. Here we had to keep all our wits about us in order to prevent the sledge-runners being broken. But it would have been hopeless to attempt to make camp here, and in spite of everything we had to let matters take their course, for in no place could we find shelter for a tent; and the complete absence of snow on the ice seemed to indicate that in this neighbourhood storms were the order of the day. After twelve hours' tussle with wind and slippery ice, we at last reached Offley Island.

April 30th.—In the shelter of the small but high and steep island the tent was erected, and after that we attempted a musk-ox hunt. This tract consisted of dark limestone; it was quite barren and gloomy. The storm whipped across it with such violence that it was often quite impossible to go against the wind. In spite of all our efforts the long chase had no result. We found no track of game and the country was almost void of vegetation.

​During the night we continued northward under the same difficult travelling conditions, being swept along the shiny ice by the wind. Not until we were about six miles from Hall's Thank God Harbour did we reach a quiet zone with sufficient snow; then the dogs, joyous in the sensation that they could once more stand firmly, set off at a sharp run so that early in the morning we were by Hall's Grave, where we camped.

On this last part of our journey we saw several breathing-holes of seals, but although we might have hunted near these holes with some success, we were, thanks to the many tins of savoury mutton which Nares' Expedition so kindly had left us at Cape Lucie Marie, more interested in our progress than in the procuring of fresh meat.

The sea-ice between Offley Island and Hall's Grave was young autumn ice, a broad belt stretching from the coast and outward. It would seem that everywhere here, probably during the month of August, the sea opens up along the land. But one need not go far out into the basin before one finds floes of several years' old Polar-ice, which is just as uninviting for sledges as it is for ships. I do not think it would be a mistake to lay down the rule that the ice right from the northern part of Smith Sound, Kane Basin, Kennedy Channel, Hall Basin, and Robeson Channel works loose during the short period of transition in August and September, when sudden autumn storms fight with the short Arctic summer. This is proved not merely by the ice we had an opportunity to observe everywhere, but also by the experiences of all previous expeditions. But a real open Polar Sea is quite out of the question, for even that part of the Polar Sea which under the name of Lincoln Sea washes round Grant Land and the north coast of Greenland, has almost the same appearance summer and winter. In certain places basins of open water are found, but they are never very extensive and always owe their existence to some local cause or other. In the same way broad or narrow fissures in the Polar pack-ice are formed, but these also are quite local and temporary.

It happens every summer that the pack-ice which is forced ​in from the great Polar Sea through the relatively narrow channels which lead to Baffin Bay, beats down all resistance and tries to find air towards south-south-west. As soon as this enormous mass of ice starts moving—partly owing to the open water off the coast, partly aided by the current—commences towards Baffin Bay that drift of ice from the north which for periods creates comparatively open water. But it is only open water in a certain sense, as on all horizons one sees masses of huge drifting floes.

These are the facts of the open Polar Sea, which right up to this year has tempted Polar expeditions. As a rule sailing is out of the question—one merely drifts with the ice in the direction of the current.

These theories tempted the first North Pole pioneers to push ahead as far as possible northwards along the lands, and it was for this reason that they chose winter camps so far north; they thus succeeded at a comparatively early period in giving us some idea of the nature of the country and the life of its creatures, whilst at the same time they charted the coasts.

May 1st.—We arrived at Hall's Grave on a beautiful and sunny spring day and camped on the ice-foot. We had for a long time been anxious to see this place of which we had read so much, and where a large Polar expedition had fought through the dark period of the years 1871-72.

As soon as the dogs were tethered at a sufficient distance from the sledges we ran up the steep clay bank which led to a plateau.

The lines of the landscape were beautiful. A plain-like sweep of several kilometres lay like a carpet in front of the high mountains which comprise the inner region of Polaris Promontory. The plain led eastward round the peninsula down to Newman Bay and, being covered with snow, appeared to provide easy driving.

​But how barren and desolate was all the country one could survey from this point! In no place could one find the slightest sign of vegetation; everything was sand and pebbles, monotonous and bleak. We had been hoping for a hunt before we parted with the last two pack-sledges, but this hope seemed to be sheer vanity.

A short distance from the clay bank we found Hall's Grave, easily distinguished at a distance by the copper plate between two wooden pillars which Nares' Expedition had erected in front of it, this great Polar expedition which visited the same regions four years after Hall's death. The inscription on the plate is as follows:

A bear had paid a visit to the grave a short time previously and tried to destroy the monument; some of the wood was splintered, but the stout pillars which supported the plate had resisted the attack. The marks of the animal's teeth were plain.

A short distance away we found two more graves. The inscription on one of them had been made on a wooden plate and was now illegible; but on the other it is scratched on to a flat limestone, which, however, has been broken by a bear. One can merely decipher the word Discovery, but this is sufficient to show that it is one of Beaumont's men who sleeps his last sleep here.

​Our minds were impressed by the atmosphere of this little Arctic cemetery; for the men whose earthly remains rest in this place lost their lives in an attempt to reach the places which are now our goal.

Some distance from the grave we found remainders of a small wooden hut which had probably served as a scientific station on land; also some wood, a couple of zoological scrapers, and a large rusty stove—a bizarre-looking piece of wreckage on this coast. By the side of this stove we found some huge, unwieldy cooking utensils, pots and kettles which, weighing from 5 to 10 kilograms each and being of iron, must have formed rather unpleasant loads for a dog-sledge.

Our Eskimos, whose senses are always doubly keen during an examination of old, previously inhabited camps, found under a stone mound two large tins of coffee which proved excellent. A mouthful of port wine in a bottle had also preserved its bouquet in spite of fifty years of frosty nights near the Pole. It was, of course, drunk in a mood of devotion, although each man's share was no larger than just to wet the tip of the tongue.

We further discovered some lead and some large pellets suitable for the hunting of hares, which our pack-sledges appropriated with delight.

We had, however, to turn our thoughts towards hunting, and as soon as the neighbourhood had been examined we set out in two parties, one making with sledges and dogs in the direction across the plain towards Newman Bay; here we hoped to meet musk-ox, for Hall's Expedition had shot no less than twenty-six animals in this vicinity. A find amongst the ruins of the houses on the bank, furthermore, encouraged us; for in a hollow in the ground which had been dug out for a sleeping-place, we found three musk-ox skins which did not appear to be very old. Sipsu's opinion was that they were put there about 1900 during one of Peary's stays at Fort Conger. By way of a broad valley which stretched itself inward through the Polaris Peninsula itself, the second party went to hunt hares.

There was a feeling of summer in the air when we paid our visit to Hall's Grave, for quiet, mild weather and warm sun greeted us pleasantly after the three days of storm by Petermann Fjord.

The sun, which shone night and day, was most agreeable in the cool night with its softer light. As we were not troubled by the cold we could give ourselves whole-heartedly to the business consequent on this being our last day of companionship with Sipsu and Inukitsoq. They had to leave us here and hunt their way homeward via Grant Land, so for the last time we were able to send a greeting home, with a message as to how we had fared hitherto.

I have already mentioned that Sipsu was not new to this territory. He was an experienced traveller who had often followed Peary on his Polar Expeditions and knew Grant Land well; as a hunter he made certain and safe dispositions-a calm man when luck turned against him and intrepid in a dangerous situation. He was helpful, always good-tempered, being merely enlivened by the risk attendant on a long journey where success in hunting constitutes the thin thread by which life hangs.

His companion Inukitsoq had really only accompanied us because he was Ajako's brother. He was a good-natured fellow, in no way remarkable, but in the company of Sipsu he could always be used with advantage for driving those loads which a pack-sledge had to carry.

These two men were to take with them southward the geological collections we had gathered from Cape Constitution to Polaris Promontory. As we could not spare then any provisions, they were to take the road across Fort Conger, Greely's famous winter quarters, where musk-ox was always to be found.

We ourselves had reckoned on the possibility of having to cut across Hall Basin in order to get our provisions in Grant Land before we lay a course north to the unknown and ​doubtful hunting-grounds. But as for the time being we had sufficient dog food, this was not now necessary.

We did not expect to find the same good ice as that on which we had driven along the coast in Hall Basin, where the great land between Robeson Channel and Sherard Osborne Fjord acts as a buffer against the enormous pressure of the Polar Sea. Not a single ice-ridge was found on the ice-foot, which in certain places was quite broad and easy to drive on, though in other places it was too narrow for the passage of sledges.

Towards evening the different hunting parties returned; Inukitsoq and Hendrik had been almost to Newman Bay, but had seen nothing alive—they had not even come across an old track.

Ajako and Bosun had been inland on the Peninsula and had killed two hares.

For the last time we made our camp with three tents and feasted modestly on the hares. The fine weather continued so that we rarely stayed in the tents; it was far better to be outside.

We paid a visit to two beacons in the mountains near by, but could not find any records. By one of them, however, we found a big flat stone with the inscription:

Odell was one of the engineers of the Polaris.

The neighbourhood was beautiful, though its history turned our mood to one of seriousness. For we were camping near a cemetery, and the men whom fate had broken here were young and capable; but they had met difficulty and toil stronger than their own strong constitutions.

Opposite to us the Discovery wintered during 1875-76, and the Alert farther northward the same year. Both ships had sacrificed brave and intrepid members of their crew for the exploration of this land. Finally, the Greely Expedition had wintered in Lady Franklin Bay—an expedition which gave ​rise to the greatest tragedy which has ever been played in these regions.

The ground on which we stand is dearly paid for; its exploration has cost the life of many a brave young man of iron will. But for each one who fell there were others who offered to take his place; thus our knowledge of the northernmost regions of the earth moves farther and farther North.

North North!

From our tent-camp in towards Cape Tyson the land stretches itself in soft, even lines. This landscape, which is merely a desert of stone and sand, has the contours of a gentle sea swell.

At Cape Tyson the panorama changes in character. Wild mountains lie inward toward the inland-ice by the bight of Petermann Fjord, darkly edging its blue, glistening ice. Against this background big rolling clouds drive out from the fjord where the air never seems to be at peace; and while we are lying far outside the mouth of the fjord in golden spring, the colours of the storm above the cliffs change in threatening hues.

Much more fertile looks Grant Land, this no less historic place, separated from us merely by the narrow Robeson Channel. Here, again, the mountains are grandly and phantastically formed, whilst the even land sweeps away in all directions.

Westward, through broad cloughs, we catch a glimpse of the valleys where hundreds of musk-ox graze on the banks of broad rivers, and where thousands of hares tumble like a ravine of snow down to the plains, curious and over-eaten, white, woolly hordes, often of such enormous size that it seems as if the earth itself were alive.

And all this huge, white landscape somehow seems to gather round the tall Ballot Island, which in the mouth of Lady Franklin Bay lifts its head like a sky-scraping monument over man's fight for the North Pole. A memorial here by the very threshold where the word is always:

North, North, farther North!