102 NEAREST THE POLE 



moments through a notch in the southern mountains. 

 Was it a good omen? I thought that it must be. 



An ideal day, clear and calm and bitter cold, the 

 southern sky vivid yellow, the northern rose-coloured 

 like my dreams. 



The going was good at first though our trail was 

 tortuous, but later became extremely arduous. 



Reaching Henson's first igloo, Marvin, Ryan and I 

 remained and began working upon an additional igloo, 

 while I sent my Eskimos ahead with half-loads to form 

 an advance cache and reconnoitre the ice. They 

 returned with a report that the ice was heavily 

 rafted since yesterday's party passed and the trail 

 faulted. Two sledges were considerably damaged by 

 the day's work. My supper and breakfast of tea and 

 raw frozen, musk-ox steak were more than enjoyable. 



Again I quote from my Journal: "The battle is on 

 at last. We are straightened out on the ice of the 

 Polar Sea heading direct for our goal." 



The 7 th was another fine day, somewhat milder than 

 the 6th with more or less mist hiding the land and 

 partially obscuring the sun. Good going up to the 

 advance loads, beyond which, after some skirmishing, 

 we picked up the broken trail again on young ice. 

 While we were traversing this ice, pronounced move- 

 ment occurred and leads and rafters began to form 

 about us, sometimes occurring between successive 

 sledges, and it required rapid, effective work to as- 

 semble all the sledges upon a fragment of old floe some 

 hundred yards across, where we were compelled to 

 wait some time, until the motion of the ice ceased. 

 When it did so, after another brief skirmish, we picked 



