1915] WAITING FOR THE SHIP 167 



ville Bay and is now at rest, after her adventures, in 

 the trophy room of the Kane Masonic Lodge of New 

 York City. 



I looked long, photographed, and familiarized myself 

 with every detail of that historic spot. The two tower- 

 ing portals at the entrance, the stratified cliffs in black 

 and white, the terraces receding east to the Greenland 

 ice-cap, the river mouth leading to the sinuous valley, 

 the ice-girded rocky shores — all are stamped indelibly 

 upon my memory. 



Reluctantly we aroused our sleeping dogs, turned the 

 bows of our sledges toward Sylvia Headland, snapped our 

 whips, and wended our way southward. Looking back, 

 I could imagine the harbor, awakened from its long sleep 

 and rubbing its eyes, to be watching us until we turned 

 from view; and then alone to settle down again into the 

 quietness and deathlike stillness of the Great White 

 North. 



On June 4th we were back again at Borup Lodge, 

 busily engaged in developing negatives, skinning birds, 

 blowing eggs, and attending to the thousand and one 

 things which are always in waiting. 



Tanquary, a cripple and suffering exceedingly with 

 the unhealed stubs of his frozen toes, pluckily as- 

 sisted in whatever way possible. Jot constructed a 

 kayak for him so that he could keep in good health by 

 exercise. 



Hunt, strong physically and fond of the water, was 

 up and away to the hills or the islands every day, add- 

 ing materially to our ornithological collection. 



Allen, ever ready to do what I requested, had been 

 sent in company with Ak-pood-a-shah-o 120 miles down 

 the coast to the great bird-rookery at Saunders Island 



