ESKIMOS LOSE NERVE 233 



movement of the tide. The continual grinding, 

 groaning, and creaking, as the pieces of ice crunched 

 together, kept up all night long. The noise, how- 

 ever, did not keep me from sleeping, as our igloos 

 were on a heavy ice-floe, which was not likely itself 

 to be broken up, most of the ice around it being 

 young and thin. 



In the morning it was still clear, and the tempera- 

 ture was down to minus 45°. Again we made a fair 

 march of not less than twelve nautical miles, crossing in 

 the first half many cracks and narrow leads, and in the 

 latter half traversing an unbroken series of old floes. I 

 felt confident that this zone of numerous leads which we 

 had crossed in the last two marches was the "Big 

 Lead," and was of the opinion that we were now safely 

 across it. 



We hoped that Marvin and Borup, with their men 

 and vital supply of fuel, would get across the "Big 

 Lead" before we had any more wind; for six hours of a 

 good fresh breeze would utterly obliterate our trail, by 

 reason of the movement of the ice, and their search 

 for us in the broad waste of that white world would 

 have been like the proverbial search for a needle in a 

 haystack. 



The following march, on the 13th, was distinctly 

 crisp. When we started the thermometer was minus 

 53°, the minimum during the night having been minus 

 55°; and when the twilight of evening came on it was 

 down to minus 59°. With the bright sunshine at mid- 

 day, and with no wind, in our fur clothing we did not 

 suffer from the cold. The brandy, of course, was solid, 

 the petroleum was white and viscid, and the dogs as 



