THE LAST OF THE JEANNETTE. 539 



New Siberian Islands are acting as the breakwater or 

 stop to the regular onward flow of the ice. If we can 

 get well to the northward of their position we may 

 come to more water spaces, and have better chances of 

 navigation, and so work our way afloat. After such 

 long waiting we surely have earned some reward. 



Soundings in thirty-five fathoms, rapid drift S. W. by 

 W. It is not very encouraging. E. N. E. to N. N. E. 

 represent our winds. A disgusting state of tempera- 

 ture for this time of year. At nine P. M. zero again 

 stared me in the face, and at midnight minus 6° was as 

 calmly registered as if it were a temperature to grow 

 roses in. What a country this is ! It would be difficult 

 to make anybody understand what a dreary waste of 

 ice surrounds us. We are so accustomed to it that its 

 monotony is its only disagreeable feature generally ; 

 but at times its wildness strikes deep into us. One can 

 go aloft and thus extend his horizon, but he only adds 

 to the amount of wild scenery. Nothing but ice, day 

 after day. Hummocks large and small, ridges high and 

 low, a rough, tumbled mass over which there is no path, 

 and through which there is no road, and in the centre 

 of the picture a poor little ship buried to her rails in 

 snow-drifts, — a stranger in a strange land, indeed ! As 

 day adds to day the sameness becomes wearing, and 

 after our long experience of it, it is perfectly mad- 

 dening. Sun above northern horizon at midnight. 



April 2&th, Tuesday. — The most marvelous thing 

 to-day was the return of our dog Prince at six A. m., 

 very thin, and evidently exhausted. He has been gone 

 within a few hours of a week. What has become of 

 his companion Wolf, we know not ; though, if Prince 

 could speak, no doubt he would tell us a story of ad- 

 venture and suffering. Our presumption is that Wolf 



