192 
WELCOME AT THE nUT. 
with their caim and its white-cross beacon: every 
thing looked as when we defiled in funeral proces¬ 
sion round the cliffs a year before. But, as we came 
close upon the brig and drove our dogs up the gang¬ 
way, along which Bonsall and myself had staggered so 
often with our daily loads of ice, we heard the rustling 
of wings, and a large raven sailed away in the air past 
Sylvia Headland. It was old Magog, one of a pair that 
had cautiously haunted near our brig during the last two 
years. He had already appropriated our homestead. 
We lighted fires in the galley, melted pork, baked a 
large batch of bread, gathered together a quantity of 
beans and dried apples, somewhat damaged but still 
eatable, and by the time our dogs had fed and rested 
we were ready for the return. Distributing our sup¬ 
plies as we passed the squads on the floe, I hastened 
to Anoatok. I had taken Godfrey with us from his 
party, and, as it was painfully evident that the men 
could not continue to work without more generous 
food, I sent him on to Etah with the dogs, in the hope 
of procuring a stock of walrus-meat. 
The little company at the hut welcomed my return. 
They had exhausted their provisions; their lamp had 
gone out; the snow-drift had forced its way in at the 
door so that thev could not close it; it was blowing a 
* 
northeaster; and the thermometer, which hung against 
the blanketed walls, stood- only sixteen degrees above 
zero. The poor fellows had all the will to protect 
themselves, but they were lame and weak and hungry 
and disheartened. We built a fire for them of tarred 
