WADING THROUGH DEEP SNOW.
We did not halt longer at Cape Hawks than was needful to rest the teams, when we commenced our journey up the coast. The first day's march carried us across the wide bay between Capes Hawks and Napoleon. We were rejoiced to find ourselves now, for the first time, able to carry our cargo all at one load; and yet the traveling was far from good. Owing to the conformation of the coast, the bay had been sheltered from the winds, and the snows of the winter, in consequence, lay loose upon the surface of the ice. We had, however, no alternative but to cross the bay, for to go outside was to plunge again into the hummocks. The snows had accumulated to the depth of more than two feet, through which the wading was very toilsome. The sledge cut in to the cross-ties, and the dogs sank to their bellies; and, to make the matter worse, Jensen's leg gave out so that it became necessary to transfer a part of his load to Knorr's sledge, in order that he might ride. Not wishing to be detained by this circumstance, I put a belt across McDonald's shoulders, took one myself, and gave one to Knorr, and we each pulled, I dare say, as much as the best dog in the team.
On the second day's march the ice was found to be jammed in a terrible manner upon Cape Napoleon, so that we were quite unable to reach the shore at that place, and were forced to hold out into the Sound and become once more entangled among the hummocks. A thick fog, completely veiling the land, coming upon us from the north, and a shower of snow following after, caused us so much bewilderment that we were obliged to camp and await better weather.
The land-ice was reached next morning, and during that day we made a brisk run to the north side of Cape Frazer—the first time that we had struck a trot since leaving Cairn Point. Our camp was made near the furthest point reached by me in 1854.
KENNEDY CHANNEL.
We were now within Kennedy Channel, which I had before barely entered. The ice in the entrance of the Channel was much like that of the Sound below; so that we were obliged to adhere to the land-ice, even while crossing Gould Bay,[8] which lies between Capes Leidy and Frazer, and which I once thought would furnish a good winter harbor. Indeed, this was the bay which it was my aim to reach with my vessel the previous autumn. The little flag-staff, which I had before planted at this place, was discovered, still standing erect among the rocks; but not a vestige of the flag remained. The winds had whipped it entirely away.
[8] So named in honor of Dr. B. A. Gould, of Cambridge.
TRACES OF ESQUIMAUX.
While rounding the head of Gould Bay, I observed that, as at Port Foulke, Van Rensselaer Harbor, and indeed in almost every bay of the Greenland coast which I have visited above Cape York, the land rises with a gentle slope, broken into steppes of greater or less regularity,—a series of terraced beaches, the highest of which I estimated to be from one hundred and twenty to one hundred and fifty feet above the sea. To these terraces I shall have occasion hereafter to refer, and will not now longer detain the reader than merely to observe that they indicate a consecutive elevation of the two coasts. I also found in that Bay the remains of an Esquimau camp. The marks were quite unmistakable in their character although of very ancient date. The discovery was the more gratifying, that it confirmed the native traditions which had been recited to me by Kalutunah. They were a single circle of heavy stones lying upon the shingly terrace. The circle was about twelve feet in diameter, and is such as may be seen in all places where Esquimaux have been in the summer time. The stones answer the purpose of securing the lower margin of their seal-skin tent; and, when they break up camp, the skins are drawn out, leaving the stones in the situation above described.
ROTTEN ICE.