130 FOUR YEARS IN THE WHITE NORTH [Jan. 



it might be *'Took-too-lik-suah" (Cape Seddon), we are headed in 

 toward it. 



The snow has deepened, and as I am the only one who has snow- 

 shoes, have been out in advance nearly all day. Should reach land 

 to-morrow. Dogs very weak. 



January 9th, Saturday. — We have reached something, but no one 

 knows what, after eighteen hours of driving over sea ice in an easter- 

 ly direction, or perhaps more to the northeast. Although Peter has 

 been up and down the coast six times, he is unable to recognize the 

 spot. 



Henrick (a half-breed from South Greenland) is sick. He com- 

 plained so much this morning that we put him in his sleeping-bag 

 and lashed him to his sledge; and in this way he has ridden all day, 

 we driving his dogs. He tliinks that we are at Took-too-lik-suah, 

 but Peter and E-took-a-shoo are in doubt. There is a heavy mist 

 obscuring everything. 



We have our first snow house to-night, having slept in the open 

 five nights, and it seems like a home. Our last dog food is gone, 

 and also all our meat, leaving us only a few biscuit. 



January 10th, Sunday. — This morning it was as thick as mud and 

 twice as black. We didn't know what to do, but finally decided 

 that we could not go far wrong if we followed the edge of the land 

 to the southeast. This is where we made a mistake and should 

 have remained in camp. The land here trended to the northeast 

 when our course should have been southeast. 



After marching for some six hours through soft snow, we 

 headed for what we thought was an iceberg, a low black line on the 

 horizon. To our surprise, a nearer view proved it to be an island 

 with a big black cave in the side of it. Upon examination we found 

 the cave to be the vertical face of a cliff. How deceptive things are 

 in the dark! In trying to examine this I broke through thin ice, 

 filling both boots with water. 



Off the point of Took-too-lik-suah, our objective point, there 

 is an island. Thinking that possibly this might be it, Peter started 

 west along the shore on a reconnaissance, while I started up over 

 the top. After some laborious work I reached what I judged must 

 be the summit, only to find, upon going on, there was a higher and 

 a higher one with no apparent end. I was trying to cross Greenland 

 in one night! 



Upon Peter reporting that there seemed to be no limit to his 

 shore-Hne, we constructed an igloo — a half-dugout affair — and have 

 decided not to move until we know where we are. Henrick has now 

 lost a can of oil, which doubles our difficulties. Our mittens and 



