228 



MY ARCTIC JOURNAL 



fresh meat. Down in that same valley I had found an old 

 friend, a dandelion in bloom, and had seen the bullet-like 

 flight and heard the energetic buzz of the bumble-bee. 



For seven days we remained in this northern land, more 

 than six hundred miles of pathless icy sea separating us from 

 the nearest human being, and then we began our return 

 march. This return march, much shorter than the upward 



one, was une\'entful and monotonous. 

 For about two weeks we were about 

 a mile and a half above the sea-level, 

 literally in the clouds, and day after day, in every direction, 

 stretched only the steel-blue line of the snow horizon. The 

 snow was soft and light, and without our " ski," or Norwegian 

 snow-skates, and Indian snow-shoes we should have been almost 

 helpless in it ; but at last, after passing the latitude of the 

 Humboldt Glacier, w^hen we were only about a mile above 

 the sea-level, the traveling became better. The slight down- 

 grade assisted us, and for seven days we averaged thirty miles 



