1915] THE WINTER OF 1915-16 201 



I said, "Well, Hunt, the boys have gone." And, noting 

 his bewildered look, I went on to explain: "Doctor 

 Hovey has been here in a power-boat. The ship reached 

 North Star Bay." No one could have taken this crush- 

 ing blow more bravely than he did, a blow which cut 

 him off from home and friends for one more year at 

 least. Plans and promises to have him sledged by the 

 December moon to South Greenland, where he could 

 reach the United States by steamship via Copenhagen, 

 were all speedily refused; he would stick it out to the 

 end. 



We now made preparations for the winter. A new 

 heavy iron stovepipe replaced the old; holes were 

 patched in our shed; double windows were put on; coal 

 was weighed daily. Meteorological observations were 

 taken as usual, with daily sea temperatures. 



On October 5th the newly formed harbor ice was all 

 blown out to sea by constant winds. But by the 15th 

 it was again forming, and two days later it was strong 

 enough to bear our weight. During the next ten days 

 Hunt, at my request, secured a valuable set of soundings 

 of Foulke Fiord (so far as I can learn, the only set), 

 showing the depth to which the glacier of centuries ago 

 chiseled and carved its bed out of solid rock as it flowed 

 on majestically from the ice-cap to the sea, between 

 what are now 1,000-foot cliffs rising abruptly from the 

 water's edge. 



Day by day the Eskimos were returning from the 

 northern hunting-grounds with sledges loaded heavily 

 with skins. They reported that the party which had 

 settled in the spring at the head of Dallas Bay had but 

 little meat, and would probably soon return. Jot ar- 

 rived from Nerky on the 28th by way of the ice-cap, 



