THE FRIENDLY ARCTIC 59 



us, for there was but one road open. Or rather no road, for the 

 wind had broken the strong ice offshore, the warm temperature 

 had rotted the young ice of the higoon, and we were marooned 

 on the island. Of course this would be only a question of a few 

 days, for at this time of year a warm spell must be temporary. 



So it proved. In two or three days the lagoon ice hardened 

 between us and the land, although to the westward it was still 

 too weak for travel. When it cleared to seaward the Karluk was 

 gone; we did not know whither, or whether she still survived. 

 There was no sense in searching for her by sled, for there was 

 vastly more water than ice, so we went on to the mainland. 



That night we camped by a platform cache made by my own 

 party in the fall of 1908 when we had killed thirteen caribou at this 

 point.* The next day I hunted alone, leaving the men in camp 

 because the weather was thick and uncertain and I did not care to 

 take the chance of their getting lost in the open. All day the walk 

 was without promise, but towards evening I saw a single bull 

 caribou. He was traveling too fast for me, however, for though 

 I gradually got nearer to him, darkness overtook me and I had to 

 suspend the chase. 



As it happened, I did not resume it next morning. The frost 

 had sharpened and it appeared possible to start west along the 

 coast, for I thought that to be the best chance of overtaking the 

 Karluk. It was possible she might have freed herself and steamed 

 eastward, but the chances were that the ice holding her had followed 

 the coast towards Barrow. 



At first we had to travel very cautiously, for the ice proved 

 treacherous on account of a light blanket of snow which kept it 

 from freezing hard. On the second evening on the west side of 

 the bay at a point southeast of Halkett we had a rather narrow 

 escape from a serious mishap, for in the attempt to make shore 

 that evening we had traveled into the night, and found ourselves 

 on ice that owing to its extreme thinness and mushiness had upon it 

 black patches of damp snow. It was partly a matter of luck that 

 we did make shore without losing sledges or lives. 



The next day we were traveling along in the general direction 

 of Halkett when one of the Eskimos said he could smell smoke. 

 None of the rest of us could, but I was willing to rely on the 

 Eskimo, for my experience is that while in eyesight, hearing and 

 every other natural faculty he is about the same as the rest of 

 us, he does seem to excel in the sense of smell. Whether this is 



*See "My Life With the Eskimo," p. 64. 



