CHAPTER XXX 
OFF FOR WRANGELL ISLAND 
From time to time there came rumors of how 
close the season was and how much ice there was 
about the coast. This was disquieting. I had told 
the captains of the vessels that from time to time 
left Nome for the northern waters, walrus-hunting 
or trading, about the men on Wrangell Island and 
had asked them, if they got anywhere near the 
island, to take a look around. By the first week 
in July I began to get more and more uneasy and 
anxious to get started. The Bear had been in the 
north and reported on her return that the ice was 
heavy and still closely packed, and the walrus- 
hunter Kit came back from north of Bering Strait 
with the same story. Such news was not at all 
reassuring, though I knew that the ice could be 
broken up in a few hours’ time just as it could form 
in an equally short interval. The tenth of 
August, I reckoned, should see us at Wrangell 
Island; the men would not really be expecting me 
much before that time. 
The Bear finally got away, with me on board, on 
July 18. She had a number of calls to make on her 
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