THE 
“EIS-FOD. 
175 
>> 
creak as they pass over it. Baron Wrangell notes the 
same fact in Siberia, at —40°. 
“ The difficulties of draught, however, must not inter¬ 
fere with my parties. I am only waiting uptil the sun, 
now 18° high at noon, brings back a little warmth to 
the men in sleeping. The mean difference between 
bright clear sunshine and shade is now 5°. But on 
the 10th, at noon, the shade gave —42° 2', and the 
sun —28°; a difference of more than fourteen degrees. 
This must make an impression before long. 
“ March 17, Friday.—It is nine o’clock, p. m., and the 
thermometer outside at —46°. I am anxious to have 
this depot party off; but I must wait until there is a 
promise of milder weather. It must come soon. The 
sun is almost at the equator. On deck, I can see to 
the northward all the bright glare of sunset, streaming 
out in long bands of orange through the vapors of the 
ice-foot, and the frost-smoke exhaling in wreaths like 
those from the house-chimneys a man sees in the 
valleys as he comes down a mountain-side.” 
I must reserve for my official report the detailed 
story of this ice-foot and its changes. 
The name is adopted on board ship from the Danish 
“ Eis-fod,” to designate a zone of ice which extends 
along the shore from the untried north beyond us 
almost to the Arctic circle. To the south it breaks 
up during the summer months, and disappears as high 
as Upernavik or even Cape Alexander; but in this 
our high northern winter harbor, it is a perennial 
growth, clinging to the bold faces of the cliffs, follow- 
