GOOD BY TO THE POLE 311 



to them and we made a longer stop in this camp, 

 partly on their account and partly to bring us around 

 again to "night" marching, with the sun at our backs. 



During the next march from Sunday to Monday, 

 April 18th to 19th, there was a continuation of the 

 fine weather and we were still coming along on my 

 proposed schedule. Our longer sleep of the night 

 before had heartened both ourselves and the dogs, 

 and with renewed energy we took to the trail again 

 about one o'clock in the afternoon. At a quarter 

 past two we passed Bartlett's igloo on the north side 

 of an enormous lead which had formed since we went 

 up. We were a little over two hours crossing this 

 lead. 



It was not until eleven that night when we again 

 picked up the main trail, in Henson's first pioneer 

 march. When, traveling well in advance of the sledges 

 I picked it up and signaled to my men that I had 

 found it, they nearly went crazy with delight. The 

 region over which we had just come had been an open 

 sea at the last full moon, and a brisk wind from any 

 direction excepting the north would make it the same 

 again; or the raftering from a north wind would make 

 it a ragged surface of broken plate glass. 



It may seem strange to the reader that in this 

 monotonous waste of ice we could distinguish between 

 the various sections of our upward marches and recog- 

 nize them on return. But, as I have said, my Eskimos 

 know who built or even who has occupied an igloo, 

 with the same instinct by which migratory birds 

 recognize their old nests of the preceding year; and I 

 have traveled these arctic wastes so long and lived so 



