Just before reaching the land we crossed a fresh sledge trail running parallel with the land and heading east. For a moment I thought it might be a party looking for us, but an inspection of the trail showed at once that it meant trouble. There were three light dogs attached to a single sledge followed by four men walking slowly and with irregular steps. I thought it might be Marvin and his party, and as soon as we had had a few hours’ sleep, I sent Ootah and Ahngodoblaho eastward on the trail to find out just what it did mean. The next day they returned with Clark and his three Eskimos. They, like us, had been driven eastward, had come down upon the Greenland coast, and Clark’s Eskimos like mine, possessed with the crazy idea that they had drifted westward and were coming down “the back side of Grant Land,” as they expressed it, had insisted on turning east and were going directly away from the ship. My two men had found them a few miles east of our camp in what would have been their last camp. They were exhausted, had lived for a few days upon their spare skin boots, had with them three apologies for dogs which they were about to kill, and a little later would have come the finish. With new life given by the news that I was so near, they had summoned energy enough to walk to our camp, but they came in skull-faced and wavering in gait. Fortunately I could give them something to eat, as more hare had been killed since the two men went out. I had also sent two men, with an exhausted dog for rations, round into Mascart Inlet to look for musk-oxen, and while awaiting their return, I climbed to the highest point in the neighbourhood of the Cape, after sending out two other Eskimos for hare, where I could examine the going as far as Britannia and Beaumont Islands. I was very thankful to see that the edge of the bay-ice was farther off than in 1900, and that the surface across the bays was smooth and level. I knew that it was likely to be more or less soft, but we had our snowshoes with us, and it is surprising what distance men with a little dogged sand in them can cover, even though half-starved and almost exhausted, when it is simply a matter of throwing one’s weight forward a little and sliding one snowshoe past the other, until the last minute of endurance is reached. My Mascart Inlet men came back unsuccessful, but the two hare-hunters brought in six, and this made things look somewhat brighter. As can readily be understood, however, the addition of four starving men to my party of eight half-famished ones in no way lightened my responsibilities. One thing was in my favour. The sledge journey along this coast in 1900 had shown me the places where the musk-oxen which must be our salvation would most likely be found, and leaving Cape Neumeyer, I led the trail past the end of Ellison Island, and thence through the channel between Britannia Island and Nares Land, in order to examine the coast from Nares Land to Cape May.
CHAPTER VIII
ALONG THE GREENLAND COAST TO THE ROOSEVELT
Wearily we started westward to regain the Roosevelt and I kept an Eskimo constantly scouting the shore abreast of our line of march, looking for hare, but musk-oxen were to be our salvation and instead of setting an air-line course for the north end of Britannia Island on the route which I had followed in 1900, I determined to go straight for the north end of Ellison Island and thence round the southern end of Britannia Island through the passage between it and the mainland, and from there along the coast to Cape May and Cape Bryant, as I felt satisfied that on Nares Land and in the neighbourhood of Cape May we should find musk-oxen.
Our first camp was just off the precipitous black northern point of Ellison Island. Clark and Pooblah of his party did not come in till three hours after the rest of us. They could just barely crawl along. When we left camp I started them off as soon as they had their tea, they travelled so slowly. Fine weather, clear and calm, and we headed for the south end of Britannia.
Arriving at the point, which is low, I sent Panikpah across overland to look for hare. Soon after rounding the point and heading for Cape May we heard one shot. We travelled just as long as we possibly could, everyone crawling along and Clark and Pooblah out of sight in the rear. The snow was about three feet deep; impracticable for a party without snowshoes, but affording good snowshoeing for a party with snowshoes and in good condition. For us it was heavy work. We camped on the ice at the intersection of a line between Victoria Inlet and Beaumont Island, and our course. Just before stopping I heard another shot from Panikpah. We had killed a dog for supper and were cutting it up when Ootah, who was carefully examining the land with the glass, yelled—“Ooming-muksue!” (Musk-oxen.) The cry electrified us all. I jumped out of the tent and found him looking at the Nares Land shore, seized the glass, and made out seven black spots on top of the shore bluff apparently right over the ice-foot.
I grabbed my mittens, tied on my snowshoes, told one man to get my carbine and cartridges, and the others to hitch the dogs to the empty sledge, and started off as I was, in my blanket shirt, having thrown off my kooletah (deerskin coat) while working over the cooker in the tent making tea.
I was as foolish as the others, and only when some distance from the tent and I realised that I was running, did I come to my senses.
It was too late to go back for my kooletah and the oil-stove cooker, but I did call a halt on the pace which in our excitement we were making.
The musk-oxen were not less than six miles away and we, weak and footsore, on top of a day’s trying march, were running in our eagerness. Yet every once in a while I found myself unconsciously hurrying. There were nine of us, Henson, myself and seven Eskimos. Clark and Pooblah and Panikpah had not reached camp when we started. Less than half-way over Henson dropped out and went back. I should have been glad to, but the musk-oxen meant too much to us. I felt the safety of the party resting on me, we had scant cartridges, could not afford to waste one, and I could not trust my excited men.
When within a couple of miles of the animals I began to worry. We were in plain sight of them and it seemed as if our snowshoes made a noise like thunder. Then I feared the few things of hair and bone which we called dogs would not have strength to round up our quarry.