. \ 
A DREARY NIGHT. 449 
“January 2, Tuesday.—The dogs began to show 
signs of that accursed tetanoid spasm of theirs before 
we passed Ten-mile Ravine. When we reached Basalt 
Camp, six out of eight were nearly useless. Our thermo¬ 
meter was at —44°, and the wind was blowing sharply 
out of the gorge from the glacier. Petersen wanted to 
return, but was persuaded by me to walk on to the huts 
at Anoatok, in the hope that a halt might restore the 
animals. We reached them after a thirty miles’ march. 
“The sinuosities of this bay gave fearful travel: the 
broken ice clung to the rocks; and we could only 
advance by climbing up the ice-foot and down again 
upon the floe, as one or the other gave us the chance 
of passing. It was eleven hours and over before we 
were at the huts, having made by sledge and foot-tramp 
forty-five miles. We took to the best hut, filled in its 
broken front with snow, housed our dogs, and crawled 
in among them. 
“ It was too cold to sleep. Next morning we broke 
down our door and tried the dogs again: they could 
hardly stand. A gale now set in from the southwest, 
obscuring the moon and blowing veiy hard. We were 
forced back into the hut; but, after corking up all open¬ 
ings with snow and making a fire with our Esquimaux 
lamp, we got up the temperature to 30° below zero, 
cooked coffee, and fed the dogs freely. This done, 
botli Petersen and myself, our clothing frozen stiff, fell 
asleep through sheer exhaustion; the wind outside 
blowing death to all that might be exposed to its in¬ 
fluence. 
Vol. I.— 29 
