OUT OF THE ICE 155 



tacked and fetched in, about midnight, we ran into the 

 edge of the ice again and I was roused by pieces flying 

 through the propeller. Off and on we lay till morning, 

 and daylight showed only open sea; no land, no ice were 

 in sight. We had left the pack for the last time. 



The morning broke fair, with the wind still southeast, 

 that is, exactly against the course we wanted to make; so 

 we headed in for shore, a little west of south. Then the 

 breeze lightened and hauled to south. I took advantage 

 of this lull in the bad weather to salt my walrus heads 

 and put them in barrels of pickle, composed of one part 

 alum, two parts salt, dissolved in sea water till the mix- 

 ture would float a raw potato. Two heads went into one 

 barrel, and the third, on which the skin had been cut 

 very far back, nearly filled a barrel by itself. It was 

 intended that this process should preserve the hides and 

 start tanning. 



Collins and Lovering laid their scalps in salt in a large 

 leaky hogshead to drain off the liquor. 



The whole party was embroiled by this time in so 

 many feuds that a detached observer (of Arctic expe- 

 rience) might have found nothing to compare it to so 

 apt as a herd of bull walrus squabbling upon an ice floe 

 hardly large enough to hold all. Kleinschmidt and Born 

 kept an armed truce, Albrecht and Kleinschmidt were 

 held together only by the impossibility of separation, 

 Kleinschmidt and the others were impatient at Larsson's 

 sloth. Dr. Young injected himself into every conversa- 

 tion, Ed Born raised annoying objections at various 

 places. The mate was generally voted competent and 

 attentive to his own business. Frank Born talked much 

 but stepped on nobody's toes. Kusche had probably 

 foreseen all this and quietly dodged a mouthful of it. 



