BROKEN SLEDGES. 331 



we are turning in cheerless enough in consequence. 

 The temperature has tumbled down again to 10° be- 

 low zero, and writing is not pleasant to the fingers 

 when the thermometer behaves in this manner. 



May 7th. 



Another edition of all the other days. We have 

 made but little progress, to rew^ard us for a most ener- 

 getic day's labor, and are flat down with two broken 

 sledges. Of one a runner is split, and Jensen declares 

 that he has mended it so often that he can mend it 

 no more ; but a few hours' sleep will sharpen his wits, 

 I hope. We are a rather lamentable-looking set of 

 travelers. With too little energy to build a snow hut, 

 we have drawn the sledges together and are going to 

 sleep on them, in the open air. The night is reason- 

 ably warm, — temperature above zero, and sleeping 

 may be managed ; but we miss the grateful warmth 

 of the snow hut. The truth is, that the labors of the 

 day cause us to perspire as if we were in the tropics, 

 and hence our clothing becomes wet through and 

 through ; the coat freezes stiff and solid as sheet- 

 iron as soon as we halt, and we experience all over 

 the uncomfortable sensation of "packing" in wet 

 sheets at a water-cure. 



May 8th. 



Battling away as before. I felt sure that we would 

 reach the land to-day, but it appears no nearer than 

 when we set out this morning. Sledges, harness, 

 dogs and men are all tumblmg to pieces. 



May 9th. 



Still battling away ; but, this time, through fog and 

 snow, bedeviled all the day in a lifeless atmosphere, 

 thick as the gloom of Hades. 



