CAPE CONSTITUTION. 
305 
the larger representatives of ocean life. They were in 
numbers, flitting and hovering over the crests of the 
waves, like their relatives of kinder climates, the Cape 
of Good Hope Pigeons, Mother Carey’s Chickens, and 
the petrels everywhere else. 
As Morton, leaving Hans and his dogs, passed be¬ 
tween Sir John Franklin Island and the narrow beach¬ 
line, the coast became more wall-like, and dark masses 
of porphyritic rock abutted into the sea. With grow¬ 
ing difficulty, he managed to climb from rock to rock, 
in hopes of doubling the promontory and sighting the 
coasts beyond, but the water kept encroaching more 
and more on his track. 
It must have been an imposing sight, as he stood at 
this termination of his journey, looking out upon the 
great waste of waters before him. Not a “speck of 
ice,” to use his own words, could be seen. There, from 
a height of four hundred and eighty feet, which com¬ 
manded a horizon of almost forty miles, his ears were 
gladdened with the novel music of dashing waves; 
and a surf, breaking in among the rocks at his feet, 
stayed his farther progress. 
Beyond this cape all is surmise. The high ridges 
to the northwest dwindled off into low blue knobs, 
which blended finally with the air. Morton called 
the cape, which baffled his labors, after his commander; 
but I have given it the more enduring name of Cape 
Constitution. 
The homeward journey, as it was devoted to the 
completion of his survey and developed no new facts, 
Vol. i.—20 
