14 FOUR YEARS IN THE WHITE NORTH [Aug. 



appreciated qualification — an understanding of our 

 own language. Lack of time, however, precluded all 

 thought of any deviation from a direct course to Cape 

 York. 



A gale in Baffin Bay on the 6th, 7th, and 8th knocked 

 every one of the expedition clean down and out, except- 

 ing Jot Small, mechanic and cook, who has never known 

 what it is to be seasick. 



The forecastle deck sprang a leak and the crew for'- 

 ard were nearly washed out of their berths. With every 

 heavy head sea the bones of the fifty-year-old Erik 

 fairly shrieked in agony. The watchful Jot observed 

 our house lumber, piled high on the skids, lurching 

 heavily from side to side with every roll, and had it 

 more securely lashed, thereby saving us from most 

 serious loss. 



On August 12th we passed over the Arctic Circle, but 

 the members of the expedition were too busy bagging 

 coal for our winter quarters to notice any perceptible 

 bump or to watch the bows of the ship for the boarding 

 of Father Neptune, who in these latitudes should have 

 walrus tusks and a harpoon in lieu of the conventional 

 flowing beard and trident. 



Our first field of ice on the 13th necessitated a detour 

 to the eastward of about five miles; and, wonderful 

 to relate, this was the only detour made during the 

 long voyage of two thousand miles from Sydney to 

 Cape York. 



Thick fog on the 14th caused us considerable anxiety. 

 The innimierable small islands and outlying ledges off 

 the Greenland shore north of Upemavik are justly to be 

 dreaded, especially following a long period of thick 

 weather, making sights for position impossible and com- 



