FARTHEST NORTH WITH GREELY 



83 24' N., longitude 40 46' W. We were exceedingly 

 fortunate in having such splendid weather for the astro- 

 nomical work. Failure to secure reliable observations for 

 the determination of position would have rendered the 

 result of the expedition vastly less satisfactory, for our 

 position could not have been accurately known until some 

 more fortunate future explorer should have found our cairn 

 and confirmed our discoveries. 



Leaving Frederik in camp to prevent the half-famished 

 dogs from eating our equipment, Lockwood and myself 

 ascended to the top of the Cape to obtain a more extended 

 view of the country, and prompted by sentiment, to again 

 unfurl our flag over the new land. The summit, at an 

 estimated altitude of about 2600 feet, was a very narrow 

 plateau, extending back some distance and gradually slop- 

 ing upward to the high ground which terminated in Mount 

 Schley. 



The scene was grand and impressive beyond description. 

 To the southwest arose the dark outlines of Mary Murray 

 Island and to its left and beyond, dimly showing, were two 

 of the capes we had rounded in coming up the coast. About 

 eight miles to the northeast a point of land (Cape Kane) 

 was visible, similar to the one on which we were standing, 

 with an intervening fiord, which probably communicates 

 with the one to the west, making of this land an island, to 

 which Lieutenant Greely subsequently gave the name of 

 Lockwood Island, in honor of its discoverer. Still another 

 point (Cape Washington), about fifteen miles away, pro- 

 jected farther to the north than the intermediate one — the 

 two being apparently separated by a fiord. In the distance, 

 looking past these two points, we saw a low, blue line, 

 stretching away to the northward, but owing to haze in 

 that direction it could not with safety be pronounced land, 

 though at first it gave us that impression. To our south 

 the coast was badly broken by entering fiords and the in- 

 terior was the embodiment of icy desolation — a confused 

 mass of snow-capped peaks. 



Turning our gaze toward the nortJi, the Polar ocean, a 

 vast expanse of snow and broken ice lay before us in all its 

 gloomy solitude. Within our horizon of perhaps sixty 

 miles, no sign of land or open water could be seen. The 



77 



