snow was deep and soft, making my travelling laborious. When about half-way, I ascended a hill that overlooks the channel between "Hall's Island" and "Hall's smaller island." The channel was free from ice save near its west end, close by the little bay of our encampment, and presented an animated picture of life, for seals and aquatic birds in great variety were sporting there. But as only a brief time remained for this journey, I was obliged to hasten on. At length, after a laborious walk, I reached "North Foreland," the goal of my ambition in this pleasant trip.
Here the view was as enchanting as it was extensive. The sea around, as far as the eye could reach, was open; yet much ice, in the various forms of "sconce" pieces, floes, and bergs, was drifting about.
"North Foreland" presented a bold front. As I looked down from its heights (an elevation of several hundred feet), the sea was "playing fantastic tricks," its mighty waves dashing in quick succession against the rocky rampart by which I was shielded, leaping upward as if to meet and greet me, saying, "White man, we saw your namesake here nearly three hundred years ago; where is he now?"
Nearly south of North Foreland are three islets, the nearest one-fourth of a mile off shore. The largest is a quarter of a mile long, and is distinguished by a prominent rock that looks like a huge bee-hive, with smaller ones on each side of it. The others are quite small, being respectively about seventy and a hundred and forty fathoms in length. In every direction about here I saw recent traces of reindeer and rabbits, also circles of stones, and other signs of Innuits having lived here long ago.
The following are some of the measurements which I made while on this morning walk: The width of North Foreland (which is the eastern extremity of Hall's Island), measuring it a short distance back from the cliff, is about a quarter of a mile. Hall's Island extends a mile farther eastward than "Hall's smaller island." The latter is eight-tenths of a mile in length.
