58 THE LOG OF THE 



little schooner of 70 tons built at Port Union, Nfld. Her master, 

 Blackwood, is an extremely nice man with whom we had a long 

 talk last night. They are the last vessels on the coast. 



Woody went ashore collecting. Oily and John took their shot- 

 guns and saw a seal sitting on a rock not 80 yards off. Aboard the 

 schooner we had a great reorganization of the hold while Mac 

 fussed with the rigging. 



At one we began steaming up the fjord which is a wide one run- 

 ning straight back. The banks are not nearly as precipitous as in the 

 other fjords yet the mountains on both sides are even higher. After 8 

 miles we sounded and got only 10 fathoms. A half a mile further we 

 anchored in 4. Bart, Johnny, Jack, Church and Oily went ashore to 

 explore the valley which is obviously the continuation of the gla- 

 cier's path. Mac and I made a haul with the plankton nets and be- 

 cause of the less volume of fresh water entering from the streams got 

 rather more life from the surface. 



The shore party did not turn up until after dark. They had walked 

 16 miles and looked it. They found no traces of caribou at all but 

 many Eskimo camps and one cache. The whole valley was obvi- 

 ously once under the sea as raised beaches ran all along the sides. A 

 stream flowing East drained the first 3 miles of it and one flowing W 

 the next five. This led them to believe that they had found the wa- 

 tershed and that the valley must lead clear through to Ungava. With 

 some difficulty they had shot a trout thinking it an Ungava fish. Poor 

 Jack, on almost his first trip ashore, got an awful "druving." Terry, 

 Woody and myself cooked their supper for them about ten-thirty. 



Strangely enough the schooner began to drag this evening and we 

 had to put the other anchor over. As the lead shows a very soft bot- 

 tom I can't understand it. 



