ii8 NEAREST THE POLE 



Sunday, April ist. — This was nearly a perfect day, not 

 a speck or flaw in the blue sky anywhere, and the sun 

 brilliant and warm (comparatively). 



It was a shame to be wasting such weather in idleness, 

 and yet it could not be helped, nor was it possible to be 

 seriously downhearted in such sunshine. In the 

 morning the centre of the lead had closed so that a 

 man "walking wide" as the polar bear does, could 

 cross it, but an easterly movement of the northern ice 

 during the night had opened a place some 200 feet 

 wide on the northern side of the lead which effect- 

 ually barred crossing. The set of the current was 

 still to the west. A light air from N. E., N. and 

 N. W. during the day might I hoped shut the lead up 

 by morning. 



We continued drying our clothing in the sun and 

 doing odd jobs to pass away time and keep from 

 thinking. It was wearing to be held from one's 

 work and object so many days, and yet there were 

 many chances yet. It was still early in the season, 

 dogs and men were in good condition, and I could 

 not help believing that once across this lead (the 

 "Hudson River?") which is undoubtedly the tidal 

 crack between the land ice of Lincoln Sea and the 

 central polar pack, we should have good going and 

 little interruption from water. 



I had two beacons made of empty pemmican 

 tins and placed one on the summit of Observatory 

 Pinnacle, and the other on a high pinnacle to the 

 west. 



I quote from my Journal: 



