The following day Lieutenant Schwatka and I took Toolooah with us inland, and sent Frank and Henry down the coast toward Victory Point. From the top of a high hill, about six miles south-east from camp, we had an uninterrupted view for many miles in every direction, and swept the entire field with a spy-glass—but saw nothing like a cache or cairn. It was all a barren waste, with many ponds and lakes, some still covered with ice, and others, being more shallow, were entirely clear, as was the case with most of those near the coast. A few patches of snow could be seen here and there on the hill-sides. We had to cross one deep snowbank before reaching the crest of the hill, and upon our descent came upon a depression in the snow, which Toolooah recognized as a bear's igloo. A few patches of white wool near the entrance confirmed his opinion. I crawled in as far as I could, to see in what sort of a house the polar bear hibernated, and found it very much in size and shape like those of the Inuits. The only difference, as far as I could see, was that this was dug out of a snowbank, instead of being built upon the surface and afterward buried by the drift.
The country over which we travelled this day was like all the rest we had seen in King William Land—broken and jagged clay stone, with intervening marshes. Little patches of brown and green moss, covered with delicate purple flowerets, peep up occasionally from among the piles of dry stones, though there is apparently no vestige of earth or mould to sustain their delicate lives. These flowers appear as soon as the snow melts from off the moss, and are most welcome to the eye of the traveller in this desolate country. How glad we will be to see the grass and trees of the temperate zone once more, after living so long in this void! To-day, for the first, time I saw a few delicate little daisies, and the sight of them carried me in imagination to the woods and fields of New Jersey. I forgot the salt marshes and red "Jersey mud;" but even the marshes there would look like flower-gardens after the clay-stone deserts of King William Land.
[Illustration: CURIOUS FORMATION OF CLAY-STONE.]
We left Irving Bay on the 13th of July, after erecting a monument over the grave of Lieutenant Irving, and marking a stone to indicate the object of the cairn. We also buried a copy of the McClintock-Crozier record, together with the record of our work to date, ten feet north of the cairn, marking the fact on the tombstone. On our way back to Franklin Point we buried the skull found on our way up, but found no further bones until we reached Point Le Vesconte. We saw tenting places, both of white men and natives, at different points along the coast, and one cairn that had been torn down and contained nothing. We found an empty grave on a hill where we encamped, about four miles below this point, and a skull about a quarter of a mile distant from it, evidently having been dragged there by wild beasts. The only things found in the tomb were a large brass buckle and a percussion cap. Near by were traces of native tenting places. In fact, wherever we found graves we always found evidences that natives had encamped in the vicinity, like vultures.
From this camp we marched, to our first camping place on Erebus Bay, and from there had the most dismal day's work of the entire journey. In order to pass Erebus Bay on the land, we had to go a long distance inland to find a place where we could ford a wide and deep river that empties into it. Throughout the entire length of the river, on both sides, we had to wade through deep marshes, and at last crossed it through a swift current, the water reaching to our waists. A dense fog obscured the sun and hid the bay from view. It was impossible to ascertain our direction, and we were compelled to follow all the windings of the river and coast until the fog lifted. In the meantime we had no idea where the sled was, and as Toolooah had been told that we would make our usual ten miles' march, he might have gone that far before looking for us, and we have still a tedious tramp before us after reaching the bay. At last we heard the dogs, and finally saw the sled, still at a great distance on the ice. The gale that had been blowing all day long, and driving the damp, cold mist into our faces, making it intensely cold and disagreeable, had subsided, and we signalled Toolooah to join us.
[Illustration: CLAY-STONE MOUNDS.]
It was a joyful sight to see the sled once more alongside the shore, for, few as were the comforts it contained, it was our only home, and it meant the shelter and rest of our sleeping bags. We ate our dinner a little after midnight, and soon forgot our troubles in sleep. While Henry was cooking the last of our meat, he had occasion to leave the fire a few moments, when the dogs, seeing an opportunity for a raid, broke from their fastenings and poured down upon the culinary department like an army of devouring fiends. We were all in bed at the time except Henry; but Toolooah, well knowing the state of our larder, slipped out under the end of the tent, stark naked, from his sleeping bag, and poured such a shower of stones upon the dogs as to send them away howling. Fortunately they got nothing but some blubber, of which we have a good supply, and which is chiefly used to hasten the fire.
The next day the fog and gale recommenced with great fury; but as we were entirely without food, Toolooah went hunting, and came in about half-past nine in the evening with parts of three reindeer that he had succeeded in killing; so we had a good warm meal about midnight, and turned in out of the bitter cold. Though not in exactly the position to be epicurean in our tastes, we could not fail to remark with great satisfaction that the reindeer were getting fat, and the quality of the meat improving thereby. A little later in the season they were exceedingly fat, the tallow, or tud-noo, as the Inuits call it, lying in great flakes, from half an inch to two and a half inches thick, along the back and over the rump. This tallow has a most delicious flavor, and is eaten with the meat, either cooked or raw. The intestines are also incased in lace-work of tallow, which constitutes a palatable dish. Indeed there is no part of any animal used for food but what is eaten by the Esquimaux, and which we have partaken of with great relish. The ribs of fat reindeer are also an especial delicacy. A dish made of the contents of the paunch, mixed with seal oil, looks like ice-cream, and is the Esquimau substitute for that confection. It has none of the flavor, however, of ice-cream, but, as Lieutenant Schwatka says, may be more likened to "locust sawdust and wild honey." The first time I partook of this dainty I had unfortunately seen it in course of preparation, which somewhat marred the relish with which I might otherwise have eaten it. The confectioner was a toothless old hag, who mixed the ingredients in a wooden dish dirtier than anything I ever saw before, and filled with reindeer hairs, which, however, were not conspicuous when well mingled with the half-churned grass and moss. She extracted the oil from the blubber by crunching it between her old gums, and spat it into the dish, stirring it with her fingers until the entire mass became white, and of about the consistency of cottage cheese. I ate some, merely to say I had eaten it, and not to offend my entertainers, but I cannot say I enjoyed it.
We left camp at a quarter past one o'clock the following day, our starting having to conform somewhat to the state of the tide, as at high tide we cannot reach the ice. The sledging was simply awful, and poor Toolooah was having a hard time of it and without a murmur or discontented look. I expected he would urge us to abridge our search, as there seemed to be imminent danger of the ice breaking up. But he constantly told us to go on and search as much as we thought necessary, and leave the sledging to him; he would do the best he could. It was a pleasure to see him do it so cheerfully. There is something reassuring even in the tone in which he addresses the dogs. Many a time we have started to go through a place that seemed absolutely impassable until I heard that cheery cry, "Why-ah-woo-ha-hu-ah!" and saw him bend his own shoulder to the task. It seemed all right then. Even the dogs were more hopeful, and pulled with renewed energy.
We found the coast on the south side of Erebus Bay cut into long, narrow points, separated by deep inlets, that made the work of searching much greater. All along the shore at the bottom of the inlets, we found pieces of navy blue cloth, which seemed to have been washed up by high tides. Quantities of driftwood also were seen; but we already had as much on the sled as, in the present condition of the ice, we could carry. At the bottom of one of the deepest inlets or bays, the men found the wreck of a ship's boat strewn along the beach, together with pieces of cloth, iron, canvas, and human bones. We gathered together portions of four skeletons, a number of buttons, some fish lines, copper and iron bolts and rivets, the drag rope of a sled, some sheet-lead, some shot, bullets, and wire cartridges, pieces of clothing, broken medicine bottles, the charger of a powder-flask, an iron lantern, and a quantity of miscellaneous articles that would naturally form part of the outfit of such an expedition. The bones were prepared for burial, and the relics gathered together in a pile, from which to select a few to take away with us. The prow and stern-post of the boat were in good condition, and a few clinkered boards still hung together, which measured twenty-eight feet and six inches to where they were broken off at each end, showing it to have been a very large boat.