A MAN LOST, AND FOUND FROZEN DEAD. 



225 



the intelligence was a heavy blow. Notwithstanding her faith- 

 lessness, he had always retained his original love for the mother 

 of their dear child ; and when he heard she was no more, he went 

 and hid himself, that he might mourn without restraint. When 

 I sought him out, I found he was giving way to almost uncon- 

 trollable grief, his eyes streaming with tears, and his lamentations 

 loud and painful to hear. I tried to comfort him, and by sooth- 

 ing words direct his thoughts upward, where the best consolation 

 is ever found. 



At this time a very serious event occurred, the narrative of 

 which I here transcribe from my diary : 



" Sunday, March 17th, 1861, 11 o'clock, night. 



" A man lost ! The man found — dead ! ! frozen to death ! ! ! 



" I am too fatigued, my mind too overwhelmed with the dread- 

 ful incidents of the day, to make record of what belongs to this 

 day's journal. I leave all for the morrow, after having said, 



"Peace to the soul of John Brown, one of the men of the 

 George Henry /" 



"Monday, March 18th, 1861. 



u I now resume the painful record of the subject foreshadowed 

 in the few words of my last night's penning. 



" Turning back to the record of last Tuesday (I refer to my 

 MS. journal book), it will be seen that two of the George Henry 's 

 men, John Brown (who now sleeps in death) and James Bruce, 

 both afflicted with scurvy, were sent to Oopungnewing, in Fro- 

 bisher Bay, distant by sledge-route seventeen nautical miles, for 

 the purpose of having them stay with the Innuits for a while, liv- 

 ing exclusively upon fresh meat, walrus and seal. They accom- 

 panied, as there stated, the Innuit " Bob" (King-wat-che-ung), 



with whom Captain B made distinct arrangements to care 



for them, providing for all their necessities. This Innuit Bob has 

 a noble soul, one that prompts him to noble deeds, continually out- 

 pouring in behalf of the poor, the friendless, the unfortunate, and 

 the sick. He is the one to whom Captain B feels himself in- 

 debted for saving his life in the disastrous winter here of 1855-6, 



when he (Captain B ) lost thirteen of the crew of his vessel — 



the Georgiana — by scurvy. 



" On Friday last, March 15th, by the journal (my MS. journal), 

 it will also be seen that Koojesse and Charley (Koo-per-ne-ung) 

 went over to the Innuit settlements at Frobisher Bay with the 

 dogs and sledge, for the object of trafficking for walrus tusks and 



P 



