254 NORTH MAGNETIC POLE AND NORTHWEST PASSAGE. 



for the succor of the Franklin expedition. Five graves did not make 

 it any more cheerful. The memorial stone to Sir John Franklin was 

 the only thing which in the least brightened all this sadness — a hand- 

 some marble tablet put up to his memory by his faithful wife. 



The magnetic observations indicated the pole as being in a south- 

 erly direction, and Prince Patrick Land was this time left in peace. 

 We left Beechey Island on the 24th and shaped the course for Peel 

 Sound, entering those waters in dense fog. The ice was the whole 

 time fairly penetrable, and we met only loose streams, Avhich pre- 

 sented no hindrance. At Prescot Island the compass, which for some 

 time had been somewhat sluggish, entirely refused to act, and we 

 could as well have used a stick to steer by. Navigation as we now 

 practiced it was at first a somewhat unfamiliar proceeding, and Avhen 

 one watch released the other and the fog lay close and compact, as it 

 always did, strange remarks might have been heard. " What are you 

 steering? " would ask the relieving watch in a cross and sleepy tone, 

 " Supi^osed to be steering south, but ain't sure we're not going 

 north ; " and as he handed the tiller to the other, one would hear, 

 " Steady — so." So there one would be at 2 o'clock in the morning, 

 just up from a comfortable, warm berth, the fog pouring down over 

 everything, and absolutely nothing to be seen in any direction, and 

 one was to steer steady. This was certainly great fun; but custom 

 is a remarkable thing. Within a short time we became quite at home 

 even with this sort of navigation, and we made way. On August 2S 

 we passed the spot where Sir Allen Young was stopped in his vesel, the 

 Pandora^ by impenetrable ice. Later in the forenoon the western 

 entrance to Bellot Strait, where Sir Leopold M'Clintock in vain 

 tried to get through, was passed. Now began our voyage along the 

 west coast of Boothia Felix — a voyage that more than once looked 

 dark for us. We were not hindered by ice to any great extent ; the 

 land lead was, as a rule, so wide that we could get along without diffi- 

 culty; but what impeded us most was the shoal water, the constant 

 fog, and the pitch-dark nights. On August 31 we struck ground 

 for the first time. The weather, however, was fine, and we got 

 off Avithout injury. In the evening we anchored off a low island to 

 wait for daybreak, for I no longer dared to go on, now that the 

 nights were so dark, and in such foul waters. How peaceful every- 

 thing was that evening. It was an unusually dark night and abso- 

 lutely calm, and what greatly increased our already romantic position 

 was the fact that we — I confess it openly and without shame — had 

 no idea where we were. The land had been mapped in winter, and 

 many of the small islands which we came across were not marked at 

 all, the snow covering them at the time having rendered them invisi- 

 ble. All was so peaceful, quiet and calm. We had all retired and 

 left the watch to one of the engineers whose turn it happened to be. 



