24th.—It blew so hard this morning that we could not start until 8 o'clock. The wind after that moderated gradually, and latterly fell calm. By rowing we arrived at the S.E. end of the island[6] near Whale Cove, where we were visited by a party of natives, who brought off some furs and boots for trade. A breeze from S.S.E. sprung up about 1 o'clock, with which we turned to windward through a narrow channel between a small island and the main. When we reached the open sea the wind was too much ahead for us to advance against the ebb tide, and as a convenient harbour offered itself, we anchored for the night. Our latitude at noon was 62° 13' 19"; after which we advanced about four miles to the southward. Ouligbuck told us that, when a little boy about seven years old, he visited this place with his parents, and went out to Sea-Horse Island on the ice to hunt the animals from which it takes its name. Three large black whales were seen to-day. Thermometer +46°, +53°, and +42°.

I was much pleased to observe that the nearer we approached to Churchill, the more confidence the Esquimaux placed in us. They fixed no price for their goods, but threw them on board the boat, and left it to me to pay them what I pleased. This confidential mode of dealing, which is not in keeping with the habits of the Esquimaux tribes, at least shows that they are satisfied with the treatment they receive at Churchill. To the Hudson's Bay Company, indeed, they have much reason to be grateful for having, by their influence, at last created a friendly feeling between them and the Chipewyans, with whom they used to be at constant and deadly enmity.

25th.—There was heavy rain all last night, which continued until between 9 and 10 o'clock this morning. We then got under weigh with the first of the flood, but it fell calm. We rowed for fourteen or fifteen miles, the rain pouring all the time. A fine breeze from N. by E. sprung up at 4 P.M., before which we ran direct for the passage between Sir Bibye's Islands; but finding the water become very shallow, and learning from Ouligbuck that there was not water enough for boats except at full tide, we kept outside the islands altogether. We reached the main land a little after sunset at the south point of Nevill's Bay, and ran for shelter into a small inlet separated on the south by a narrow point from a deep river, to which the Esquimaux resort to catch salmon. Thermometer +37° and +41°. As the moon was full, I at first intended running on all night, but the threatening look of the weather deterred me.

26th.—Last night, about an hour after casting anchor, the moon became overcast, and it blew a perfect gale. On landing this morning we found a quantity of wood, a large sledge 30 feet long, and some slender pieces of wood fastened together to the length of 40 feet. There were two of these poles, which are used by the natives for spearing small seals. It is said that, in Davis' Straits, the Esquimaux use poles of the same kind for spearing whales.

As the bay in which we were lying was not very safe should the wind change, we got under weigh and turned into the mouth of the river under close-reefed sails. The boats shipped much water, particularly the Magnet, keeping a man constantly baling. We at last got under the lee of a point where there was a sandy bottom, but not water enough to float the boats at low tide. The river is about a mile broad, and deep enough in the middle for a vessel drawing 12 or 14 feet water.

We saw a number of whalebone snares set along the edges of the lakes for geese, large flocks of which were feeding about, but very shy. There was a storm from N.N.W. all the afternoon with heavy rain. Thermometer +36°.

27th.—It felt very cold this morning; the thermometer was at the freezing point, and there was some snow. The storm had continued all night with increasing strength, but towards day-light the weather became more moderate, so that about 9 o'clock we were able to start under reefed sails. The breeze gradually died away and went round to the S.W., and it finally became calm. Heavy rain and sleet began to fall; the wind veered round to the S.E., so that we could lie our course, and make good progress with the flood.

At 6 P.M. we reached a bay a few miles north of Knapp's Bay, which I had not noticed on our outward voyage, and which is not laid down on the charts. It is about ten miles wide and eight deep; the water in it is very shallow, no where exceeding ten feet; and as it was within an hour or two of high water, the greater part of it must be dry when the tide is out.

Numbers of Brent geese were feeding in all directions on a marine plant (zostera marina, Linn.) which grows here in great abundance.

We anchored under the lee of an islet in Knapp's Bay, a very small portion of which was visible at high water. Thermometer +38°.