162 
THE GRAVES. 
over to Prince Regent’s Sound, communicate the news 
to the Prince Albert, and so relieve that little vessel 
from the now unnecessary perils of her intended expe- 
dition ; and we were to press through the first open- 
ings in the ice by Wellington Channel, to the north 
and east. 
It was wisely determined by brave old Sir John 
that he would leave the Mary, his tender of twelve 
tons, at a little inlet near the point, to serve as a fall- 
back in case we should lose our vessels or become 
sealed up in permanent ice, and De Haven and Penny 
engaged their respective shares of her outfit, in the 
shape of some barrels of beef and flour. Sir John 
Ross, I think, had just left us to go on board his little 
craft, and I was still talking over our projects with 
Captain Penny, when a messenger was reported, mak- 
ing all speed to us over the ice. 
The news he brought was thrilling. “ Graves, Cap- 
tain Penny ! graves ! Franklin’s winter quarters !” 
We were instantly in motion. Captain De Haven, 
Captain Penny, Commander Phillips, and myself, join- 
ed by a party from the Rescue, hurried on over the ice, 
and, scrambling along the loose and rugged slope that 
extends from Beechy to the shore, came, after a weary 
walk, to the crest of the isthmus. Here, amid the ster- 
ile uniformity of snow and slate, were the head-boards 
of three graves, made after the old orthodox fashion of 
gravestones at home. The mounds which adjoined 
them were arranged with some pretensions to symme- 
try, coped and defended with limestone slabs. They 
occupied a line facing toward Cape Riley, which was 
distinctly visible across a little cove at the distance of 
some four hundred yards. 
The first, or that most to the southward, is nearest to 
