Three hours of the next march put us on the ice-foot north of Cape Union and as we stepped upon it Ootah exclaimed “Tigerahshua keesha, koyonni!” (freely translated, “We have arrived at last, thank God!”) Ahngodoblaho who was very lame remained behind in the camp, and Clark, who was making rather heavy weather of it, fell rapidly behind from the very first, but I told him to work along as best he could and take it easy, that as soon as I reached the ship I should send someone back to him with something to eat. I think I never shall forget the march from there to the Roosevelt. At risk of being regarded as imaginative I may say that it actually seemed to us as if we had arrived in God’s country once more. It was a perfect night, clear and calm, the sunlight softly brilliant and the rich warm colours of the cliffs offering to our eyes a very decided contrast to the savage pinnacles of the sea ice and the snow-covered Greenland coast.

From where we landed the hard level ice-foot presented the best of walking, and we made good time to Cape Rawson. As we rounded it the slender spars of the Roosevelt looked very, very beautiful in the yellow midnight May sunlight.

Long before we reached the ship some of the Eskimos in the shore settlement spied us, I saw them scurrying across the ice-foot to the ship, and a few moments later several figures came out from the ship to meet us.

Arrived on board I immediately sent two Eskimos and teams back with food and stimulants to bring in the three stragglers. I learned that Marvin and Ryan and some Eskimos had left for the Greenland coast in search of Clark, and that Captain Bartlett and Dr. Wolf were still pegging away at the work north of Hecla. I sent a messenger to recall Marvin, and another with a letter to Hecla to reach Captain Bartlett as soon as he arrived.

Then to my room where I quickly ripped my rank fur clothing from myself, and threw it out on the quarter-deck; then to my bath. After that, my dinner, a real dinner with real food such as civilised men eat; and then to my blankets and to sleep, unmindful of the morrow.

I quote from my Journal of the next day:

What a delicious thing rest is. With Jo’s picture on the wall above my head, with my face buried in Ahnighito’s pillow of Eagle Island fir needles, and its exquisitely delicious fragrance in my nostrils, I for the moment echo from the bottom of my heart Ootah’s remark, “I have got back again, thank God!” Yet I know that a little later I shall feel that I might have done more and yet got back, and yet again still deeper down I know that we went to the very limit and that had we not got across the “big lead,” when we did, we should not have returned.

Since reaching the ship I have had an aversion to pencil and paper, and have only cared to lie and think and plan. To think after all the preparation, the experience, the effort, the strain, the chances taken, and the wearing of myself and party to the last inch, what a little journey it is on the map and how far short of my hopes it fell. To think that I have failed once more; that I shall never have a chance to win again. Then to put this useless repining aside, and plan for my western trip, and when I have done my duty by this, to plan for mine and Eagle Island.

CHAPTER IX
WESTWARD OVER THE GLACIAL FRINGE OF GRANT LAND

The weather for the week following our return to the ship was of the most disagreeable character, beginning within twenty-four hours of our arrival, with a violent southerly gale which swept up the channel with great fury, and was followed by continuous thick weather, with a pronounced rise in temperature, frequent winds and snow. I congratulated myself every day that we got in just in time. The gale combined with the prolonged thick weather and the invariable drop in the physical barometer accompanying such rises of temperature, might in our condition have proved the last straw.