We took from under a cliff of the cape the boat "Forlorn Hope," which Dr. Kane had deposited there. It was damaged by the falling of a stone upon it from a considerable height. Petersen's skillful mending made it only a tolerable affair. Thus wearied and baffled in our efforts at progress, we returned early to our tent, and slept soundly until three o'clock in the morning, when we were aroused by shouting without. It came from three Esquimo, a boy eighteen years old, and two women. The boy we had before seen, but the women were strangers. They were filthy and ragged—in fact scarcely clothed at all. The matted hair of the women was tied with a piece of leather on the top of the head; the boy's hair was cut square across his eyebrows. One of the women carried a baby about six months old. It was thrust naked, feet foremost, into the hood of her jumper, and hung from the back of her neck. It peered innocently out of its hiding-place, like a little chicken from the brooding wing of its mother.
They shivered with cold, and asked for fire and food, which we readily gave them, and they were soon off down the coast in good spirits.
These visitors were only well started when Hans rushed into our camp, excited and panting for breath. He was too full of wrath to command his poor English, and he rattled away to Petersen in his own language. When he had recovered somewhat his breath, we caught snatches of his exclamations as he turned to us with, "Smit Soun Esquimo no koot! no koot! all same dog! Steal me bag! steal Nalegak buffalo."
The fact finally came out that our visitors had been to the brig and stolen, among other things, a wolf-skin bag and a small buffalo skin belonging to Hans, presents from Dr. Kane. Hans took a lunch, a cup of coffee, and continued his run after the thieves.
The ice had now given way a little, and small leads opened near us. Loading the boat, we tried what could be done at navigation. But the water in the lead soon froze over and became too thick for boating, while yet it was too thin for sledging; so after trying various expedients we again unloaded the boats and took to the land-ice. But this was too sloping for the sledges, so we took our cargo in small parcels on our backs, carrying them forward a mile and a half, and finally bringing the sledges and boat. Bonsall had, on one of these trips, taken a keg of molasses on the back of his neck, grasping the two ends with his hands. This was an awkward position in which to command his footing along a sideling, icy path. His foot slipped, the keg shot over his head, and glided down into the sea. Coffee without molasses was not pleasant to think of, and then it was two hours after our day's work was done before we could find even water. Our supper was not eaten and we ready to go to bed until ten. We slept the better, however, from hearing, just as we were retiring, that Bonsall and Godfrey had recovered the keg of molasses from four feet of water.
The next morning we resolved to try the floe again. It was plain we could make no satisfactory progress on the land-ice, so we loaded first the small sledge and run it safely down the slippery slope. Then the large sledge, "Faith," was packed with our more valuable articles. Cautiously it was started, men in the rear holding it back by ropes. But the foothold of the men being insecure, they slipped, lost their control both of themselves and the sledge, and away it dashed. The ice as it reached the floe was thin; first one runner broke through, now both have gone down; over goes the freight, and the whole is plunged into the water! Fortunately every thing floated. A part of our clothes were in rubber bags and was kept dry; all else was thoroughly wet. No great damage was done except in one case. Petersen had a bed of eider-down, in which he was wont snugly to stow himself at night. When moving it was compressed into a ball no larger than his head. It was a nice thing, costing forty Danish dollars. It was, of course, spoiled. So rueful was his face that, though we really pitied him, we could not repress a little merriment as he held up his dripping treasure. Seeing a smile on Dr. Hayes's face, he hastily rolled it up into a wad, and, in the bitterness of his vexation, hurled it among the rocks, muttering something in Danish, of which we could detect only the words "doctor" and "Satan."
Our situation seemed gloomy enough. The men's courage was giving way, and one took a final leave and returned to the "Advance." Yet we pressed forward; we were not long in readjusting the load of the "Faith," and met with no further accident during the day; but our fourteen hours toil left us six more hours of ice-travel before we could reach what seemed to be a long stretch of clear sea.
Hans returned from his pursuit, having overtaken the thieves, but did not find about them the stolen goods. He proposed to remain and help us, but we could go no farther that night. We encamped, and obtained much needed rest and sleep.
We were awakened at midnight to a new and unexpected discouragement. M'Gary and Goodfellow arrived from the "Advance" bringing a peremptory order from Dr. Kane to bring back the "Faith." We could not understand this. We had been promised its use until we reached the open sea. We had only one other, which was very poor and utterly insufficient for our purpose. We were sure it was not needed at the brig; what could the order mean? But there it was in black and white, so we delivered it up, and the messengers returned with it on the instant.
This journey of Goodfellow and M'Gary was a wonderful exhibition of endurance. They had worked hard all day; having eaten supper, they were dispatched with the message. They were back to the brig to breakfast, having traveled in all to and fro thirty miles without food or rest.