Upon reaching Sunrise Point we found the ice to be very rough and insecure, and the tide of the previous night had opened a wide crack directly off the point, which it was necessary for us to cross. This crack had been closed over but a few hours, and the dogs hesitated a moment at its margin; but Jensen's whip reassured them, and they plunged ahead. The ice bent under their weight, and, as if by a mutual understanding, the team scattered, but not in time to save themselves, for down they all sank, higgledy-piggledy, into the sea, dragging the sledge after them. Being seated on the back part of it, I had time to roll myself off, but Jensen was not so fortunate, and dogs, sledge, driver and all were floundering together in a confused tangle among the broken ice. Kalutunah, who was a few paces in the rear, coming up, we extricated them from their cold bath. Jensen was pretty well soaked, and his boots were filled with water. Being only five miles from the schooner, I thought it safest to drive back as rapidly as possible rather than construct a snow-hut to shelter my unlucky driver from the cold wind which was beginning to blow. Besides, our buffalo-skins were as wet as they could be, and we should have precious little comfort on our journey if we did not return and exchange them for dry ones. The dogs, too, ran great risk of injury by being allowed to rest in their wet coats in so low a temperature. The whip was not spared, and the vessel was reached without serious consequences either to Jensen or the team. An hour or so sufficed for us to refit, when we started again; and being this time more cautious, we got around the point without further trouble.
The ice was found to be smooth and the traveling good as we moved up the coast; and, not being very heavily laden, we got on at a good pace. The snow had been packed very hard by the winds, and wherever there had been hummocks it had collected between them, so that, although the surface was somewhat rolling and uneven, yet it was as firm as a country road. Darkness coming on, (we had not yet reached the constant sunlight of summer,) we hauled in under Cape Hatherton and made our first camp.
THE FIRST CAMP.
It was a real Arctic camp;—picketing the dogs and burrowing in a snow-bank are very simple operations, and require but little time. Jensen made the burrow, and Kalutunah looked after the animals; and when all was ready we crawled in and tried our best to be comfortable and to sleep; but the recollection of the ship's bunk was too recent to render either practicable, except to Kalutunah, who did not seem to mind any thing, and snored all through the night in a most awful manner. The outside temperature was 40° below zero.
HARTSTENE'S CAIRN.
I was not sorry when we got under way again next morning, and we were soon warmed up with the exercise. The same condition of ice continuing after passing Cape Hatherton, we quickly reached the north horn of Fog Inlet. Here, as we approached the point, I discovered a cairn perched upon a conspicuous spot, and, not having remembered it as the work of any of Dr. Kane's parties, I halted the sledges and went ashore to inspect it. It proved to have been built by Captain Hartstene, while searching for Dr. Kane, as shown by a record found in a glass vial at its base. The record was as follows:—
"The U. S. Steamer Arctic touched here and examined thoroughly for traces of Dr. Kane and his associates, without finding any thing more than a vial, with a small piece of cartridge-paper with the letters 'O. K. Aug. 1853,' some matches, and a ship's rifle-ball. We go from this unknown point to Cape Hatherton for a search.
"H. J. Hartstene,
Lieut. Comdg. Arctic Expedition.
"8 P. M. August 16th, 1855.
"P. S. Should the U. S. bark Release find this, she will understand that we are bound for a search at Cape Hatherton.