558 THE FRIENDLY ARCTIC 



when once the equinox is passed. It appears to come even faster 

 than the rapid retreat of the sun justifies, for this and the early 

 summer are the seasons of the heaviest precipitation. The total 

 precipitation in the part of the Arctic where we were now would 

 probably amount to less than eight inches of water in a year, or 

 less than that of any part of the temperate or torrid zones that 

 is not a desert. But it comes in the form of fog, fine mist and snov/ 

 and manages to fill the air continuously for days and even weeks. 

 We touched on the way at Emerald Isle, which is as thickly covered 

 with vegetation as the name given it by McClintock implies, and 

 I hunted overland while the sledge followed the east coast, but no 

 game could be seen through the continual snowstorm. In following 

 the beach the men strangely happened on a seal — strangely because 

 seals, though they live in the water and should not mind getting 

 wet, do not usually expose themselves either to rain or snow. 

 Charlie tried shooting at eighty yards and missed, which was un- 

 usual for him. He said it was due to the excitement of realizing 

 how much depended on the shot, for we were out of food and fuel 

 and he knew that my chances of getting game in the interior of 

 tlie island were small on account of the storm. 



As the days got shorter and darker the snow on the ice be- 

 came deeper and softer and progress slower and more slow. We 

 made as little as seven miles and a half in a long day of work that 

 was hard not only for the dogs but for the men who pulled on the 

 sled to help them. The load was heavy, six feet high with Loug- 

 heed Island caribou skins, for we thought it possible that the sum- 

 mer hunt in Melville Island, though we did not conceive that it 

 could have failed of ovibos, might easily have failed in caribou 

 killed at the right season for clothing. For their bulk the skins 

 were not heavy, but neither is hay and it is possible to have a big 

 load of either. On a sled no more than twenty-six inches wide a 

 load five or six feet high is topheavy and inclined to upset. 



After taking seven days for the crossing instead of three we 

 came in sight of Melville Island near Cleverly Point the after- 

 noon of October 2nd. We saw it only for a few minutes through 

 a temporary cessation of snowfall but long enough to choose a 

 place for the camp. The sleds would head that way but I took a 

 course somewhat more to the right so as to hunt over the corner 

 of land well back of the cape. It cleared after sundown and I 

 could see a band of eight ovibos about eight miles southwest of 

 our prospective camp. They were too far away to reach before 

 dark and I did not worry about finding them to-morrow, for a 



