ON THE SMITH SOUND ICE 323 



ered them. They had met with good luck, killing 

 sixteen musk-oxen, four very large ones. 



Several "sleeps" took us back to Cape Albert, and 

 presently into the rough ice, which we found even 

 worse than on our outward journey. Two sledges 

 were broken, and five hours lost in making repairs. 

 Roads had to be opened with axes, always tedious 

 work. To me, with my little charge in my arms, it 

 was particularly trying. When at last smooth ice 

 was again reached, a gale arose and I began to fear 

 lest the pack should break up. 



We were a little less than half way across Smith 

 Sound when this fear was realized. The Eskimos 

 suddenly became much excited and I quickly discov- 

 ered the cause. The floe we were on had separated 

 from the main ice. The drivers whipped up their 

 dogs, shouting at them and urging them toward a 

 narrow lead, where as yet but two feet of water sep- 

 arated our young ice floe from the stationary ice. 

 Fortunately we reached it in time but only just in 

 time to make our escape over the already widening 

 lead without accident. 



Beyond this the traveling was fearfully rough. 

 Soon snow began to fall, and in a little while a ter- 

 rific blizzard was raging. It was so thick one could 

 not see objects twenty feet away. An attempt was 

 made to construct an igloo, but the snow was too soft, 

 and we gave up the effort. 



There was nothing to do but make the best of it. 

 I pitched my tent, but it was poor protection from 

 gale and searching snow. Musk-ox skins were 



