It was truly a cairn.
Opening the barrel, Frank took out a small tablet of slate, upon which was cut the following in rude letters:
“Here lie the bodies of Jim Peters, Andy Hardy, and Mike Walsh, of the crew of the brig Solitaire. Lost in a fog, six of us are cast adrift in the Arctic without food, and with a limited supply of ammunition and weapons. Three of us are left--Sam Hatch, Dick Davey, and Roger Harmon.
“We are going from here to a settlement twenty miles east, whence we hope to reach a Greenland port, and thence home. May God help us!”
“Amen!” said Frank, sincerely.
He knew that one of the survivors was Roger Harmon.
He experienced a thrill.
“How overjoyed old Alex Harmon would be if I should find his boy here!” he exclaimed. “It is not impossible that he may be found in some Esquimau settlement. I shall try.”
Frank was desirous of seeing what was beyond the island.
So he climbed to the cliff above and looked eastward.