60 
STATE OF THE SICK. 
jet in reserve for us—for some; I dared not liope for 
all—to bear back the tidings of our rescue to a Chris¬ 
tian land. But how I did not see. 
On the 6th of the month I made the desperate ven¬ 
ture of sending off my only trusted and effective hunts¬ 
man on a sledge-journey to find the Esquimaux of 
Etah. He took with him our two surviving dogs in 
our lightest sledge. The Arctic day had begun to set 
in; the ice-track had improved with the advance of 
the season; and the cold, though still intense, had 
moderated to about eighty degrees below the freezing- 
point. He was to make his first night-halt at Anoa- 
tok; and, if no misadventure thwarted his progress, 
we hoped that he might reach the settlement before 
the end of the second night. In three or at furthest 
four days more, I counted on his return. No language 
can express the anxiety with which our poor suffering 
crew awaited it. 
“March 8, Thursday.—Hans must now be at the 
huts. If the natives have not gone south, if the 
walrus and bear have not failed them, and if they do 
not refuse to send us supplies, we may have fresh food 
in three days. God grant it may come in time ! 
“Stephenson and Riley are dangerously ill. We 
have moved Riley from his bunk, which, though 
lighter than most of the others, was dampened by 
the accumulations of ice. He is now upon a dry and 
heated platform close to the stove. Dr. Hayes’s foot 
shows some ugly symptoms, which a change of his 
lodging-place may perhaps mitigate; and I have deter- 
