36 
HEALTH FAILING. 
continues, the snow falls, and the thermometer never 
records below —20°. 
“Our sick are worse; for our traps yield nothing, 
and we are still without fresh food. The absence of 
raw fox-meat for a single day shows itself in our 
scurvy. Hemorrhages are becoming common. My 
crew,—I have no crew any longer,—the tenants of my 
bunks cannot bear me to leave them a single watch. 
Yet I cannot make Petersen try the new path which I 
discovered and found practicable. Well; the wretched 
month is over. It is something to be living, able to 
write. No one has yet made the dark voyage, and 
January the thirty-first is upon us. 
“February 2, Friday.—The weather clears, the full 
moon shows herself, the sledge is packed, and Petersen 
will start to-morrow. 
“February 3, Saturday.—He is gone with Hans. A 
bad time with Brooks, in a swoon from exhaustion! 
“February 4, Sunday.—Miv Ohlsen breaks down: 
the scurvy is in his knee, and he cannot walk. This 
day, too, Thomas Hickey, our acting cook, gives way 
completely. I can hardly realize that among these 
strong men I alone should be the borne-up man,—the 
only one, except Mr. Bonsall, on his legs. It some¬ 
times makes me tremble when I think how necessary 1 
am to sustain this state of things. It is a Sunday 
thought, that it must be for some wise and good end 1 
am thus supported. 
“Made an unsuccessful hunt out toward Mary River: 
but, although the daylight was more than ample- 
