SLEDGING 
time to strike had come. Captain Bartlett 
and Dr. Goodsell had already started. The 
Commander gave me strict orders to the effect 
that I must get to Porter Bay, pick up the 
cache of alcohol left there late in the previ- 
ous week, solder up the leaks, and take it to 
Cape Columbia, there to await his arrival. The 
cause of the alcohol-leakage was due to the 
jolting of the sledges over the rough ice, punc- 
turing the thin tin of the alcohol-cases. 
I wish you could have seen me soldering 
those tins, under the conditions of darkness, 
intense cold, and insufficient furnace arrange- 
ment I had to endure. If there ever was a 
job for a demon in Hades, that was it. I 
vividly recall it. At the same instant I was 
in imminent danger of freezing to death and 
being burned alive ; and the mental picture of 
those three fur-clad men, huddled around the 
little oil-stove' heating the soldering-iron, and 
the hot solder dripping on the tin, is amusing 
now; but we were anything but amused 
then. The following is transcribed from my 
diary : 
February 18, 1909: Weather clear, tem- 
perature 28° at five a. m. We were ready to 
54 
