RETURNING CAMP. 
195 
fused to rise. They did not complain of feeling cold; 
but it was in vain that I wrestled, boxed, ran, argued, 
jeered, or reprimanded: an immediate halt could not 
be avoided. 
We pitched our tent with much difficulty. Our 
hands were too powerless to strike a fire: we were 
obliged to do without water or food. Even the spirits 
(whisky) had frozen at the men’s feet, under all the 
coverings. We put Bonsall, Oldsen, Thomas, and Hans, 
with the other sick men, well inside the tent, and 
crowded in as many others as we could. Then, leaving 
the party in charge of Mr. McGary, with orders to 
come on after four hours’ rest, I pushed ahead with 
William Godfrey, who volunteered to be my com¬ 
panion. My aim was to reach the halfway tent, and 
thaw some ice and pemmican before the others arrived. 
The floe was of level ice, and the walking excellent. 
I cannot tell how long it took us to make the nine 
miles; for we were in a strange sort of stupor, and had 
little apprehension of time. It was probably about 
four hours. We kept ourselves awake by imposing on 
each other a continued articulation of words; they 
must have been incoherent enough. I recall these 
hours as among the most wretched I have ever gone 
through: we were neither of us in our right senses, 
and retained a very confused recollection of what pre¬ 
ceded our arrival at the tent. We both of us, however, 
remember a bear, who walked leisurely before us and 
tore up as he went a jumper that Mr. McGary had 
improvidently thrown off the day before. He tore it 
