LEAVING THE SHIP BEHIND. 597 



juice 7.30 a. m. Pipe down eight a. m. at first cutter's 

 camp, only one and one half miles from our first start- 

 ing place of Friday, the 17th. 



Called all hands at six p. m. Breakfasted at seven 

 p. m. It has been raining steadily for the last eight 

 hours, and I find the temperature up to 35°, and the 

 wind still from N. E. Not caring to expose anybody to 

 the weather, I sent around word that we should not 

 start until the rain let up ; and during the remainder 

 of this day we sat around in our tents wet and uncom- 

 fortable, hoping for a change, and wishing for a little 

 sun to dry our sleeping-bags. 



At no time of the year is traveling worse than at 

 present. In the winter or spring months it is, of course, 

 cold and comfortless, but it is nevertheless dry. In au- 

 tumn or late summer it is favorable, because the melted 

 snow has all drained off the hard ice, and the traveling 

 is excellent. But just now the snow is soft enough to 

 sink into, and progress is almost impossible. And when 

 a rainy clay sets in, one's misery is complete. Even 

 the dogs cower under the boats for shelter like hens, or 

 snuggle up against the tent doors begging for admission. 

 One comfort we have is, that this rain will melt and 

 pack the ice, and, should a cold snap follow, freezing 

 will make a good road. 



On shore the pattering of the rain on the roof has a 

 pleasant sound to those within, but out here it is far 

 from pleasant. No fires, of course, except for cooking, 

 and no place to dry clothes, and little streams of water, 

 trickling clown on you from the tent ventilating holes, 

 make your own wetness more wet. 



These halts and long camps have shown me that sev- 

 eral of our party have been carrying more than I can 

 permit. It is astonishing how many " little things that 



