186 FOUR YEARS IN THE WHITE NORTH [Sept. 



south. It was no longer interesting; it was serious. 

 Jot started at once down the shore to pull the flattie 

 to safety up beyond the high- water mark. I packed 

 everything in the tent, in anticipation of trouble, and 

 followed Jot, worrying considerably over his long ab- 

 sence. Upon our return, as we stood on the cliff above 

 and obtained a first sight of our pitched tent. Jot 

 yelled: "My God! Look at that! My rifle is gone!" 

 A succession of leaps brought us to the flat, sloping shelf 

 upon which our tent was pitched, now nearly buried 

 be every sea. 



Our equipment was too valuable to be lost. Quick 

 work and dangerous work inside the tent surging back 

 and forth with the strength of the waves netted every- 

 thing, but in a soaked condition. We lost only a tin 

 frying-pan, a tin cup, and a spoon which we could see 

 upon the bottom in about ten feet of water when the 

 storm cleared. 



Wiser and sadder men and taking no more chances, 

 we repitched our tent well up among the rocks, far out 

 of reach of the dangerous waves. Our food was gone 

 and none could be obtained on the end of the cape, but 

 if the storm continued, Etah was only fifteen miles away 

 over the glacier and this we could walk, reclaiming our 

 boats on a later date. Clearing weather at night enabled 

 us to pack and leave what Jot had called repeatedly a 

 "hell of a place for a camp." The boys at Sulwuddy, 

 taking advantage of the same lull in the storm, followed 

 us home, having obtained one more walrus since we 

 left them. 



It was now September 1st and all hope of a relief - 

 ship was given up for the year. Our situation was freely 

 discussed and plans were made for the winter. Now 



