196 THE LAST VOYAGE OF THE KARLUK 
the land. When I called Kataktovick up to look 
again he was still very dubious. 
That night in our igloo when we were making 
our tea, he asked me to show him the chart. I did 
so and pointed out the course we had taken and 
where we were bound. He appeared somewhat 
encouraged, though still of the opinion that the 
land was not Siberia but merely an island, not set 
down on the chart. When I tried to brace him 
up, however, by saying, “If you ’fraid, you no 
reach land,” he did not respond very enthusiastically 
and slept less soundly than usual that night. 
The next day dawned fine and clear. We got 
out of our igloo before sunrise, when the horizon 
was bright and objects along the surface of the ice 
were sharply defined against the skyline; sunrise 
and sunset are the best times to see anything at a 
distance. A good night’s sleep had rested my eyes 
and when I looked through my binoculars from the 
top of the ridge I could see the land distinctly, 
covered with snow. I was surprised to be able to 
see it so clearly. I called to Kataktovick to 
come up. 
“Me see him, me see him noona (land),” he said; 
he had been up on the rafter, he added, before I had 
got out of the igloo. 
“What you think him?” I asked. “You think 
him all right?” 
