212 NEAREST THE POLE 



deer and hare, feeding in the brilliant sunshine under 

 the high bluffs, the call of .the birds, and the sound 

 of running water. And the picture will be repeated 

 again and again, summer after summer, but I, to 

 whom it belongs, should never see it again. 

 I quote from my Journal: 



Southwest Camp, Grant Land. 2 P.M. July ^d. — 

 Back here again, across the channel, with less 

 discomfort and hard work than I had reason, in the 

 light of past experience, to expect. 



It rained continuously during the 2d, with fresh 

 southwesterly breeze, making it not exactly impossible, 

 but disagreeable for us to travel, and preventing the 

 drying of the deerskins. As before, however, with a 

 waterproof tent over us, and plenty of food for our 

 dogs and ourselves, we were physically very com- 

 fortable, and slept much of the time, my two men 

 almost literally all the time. 



I knew, however, that every hour of the rain was 

 making our return road more difficult, and as soon as 

 the rain ceased (about midnight), we broke camp and 

 started, getting away from the extremity of Twenty- 

 mile Cape at 2 a. m. this morning. The entire bay 

 which we crossed on the ist, was now a continuous 

 sheet of water. 



The first two or three miles of the channel were 

 very decent. After that, it was only by following 

 the deep snow along the pressure ridge (a road imprac- 

 ticable without our snowshoes and broad-runner 

 sledge) that we were able to advance. On each side 

 v/ere lakes of water, and deep morasses of slush. 



