was eager to go. I had at first intended to take the dogs, with Jensen as my only companion and driver; but upon talking the matter over with that individual, (in whose judgment with respect to such things I had much confidence), I yielded to his opinion that the dogs were not available for that kind of work. I had reason afterwards to regret the decision, for it was found that they might have been used during some parts of the journey with great advantage. It occurred to me, upon subsequent reflection, that for Jensen's aspersions of the dogs an ample apology might be found in Sonntag's broken barometer.
JOURNEY ON THE GLACIER. Having concluded to make the journey with men alone, my choice fell upon Mr. Knorr, John McDonald, Harvey Heywood, Christian Petersen, and the Esquimau Peter. McDonald was one of my very best sailors—a short, well-knit fellow, always ready for work. Christian was not unlike him in make, disposition, and endurance, and, although a carpenter, was yet something of a sailor. He had lived during several years in Greenland, and had become inured to a life of exposure. Heywood was a landsman from the far-West, and had joined me from pure enthusiasm. He was full of courage and energy, and, although occupying a position in the ship's company much inferior to his deserts, yet nothing better could be done for him. He was bent upon accompanying the expedition, no matter in what capacity.[1] With Peter the reader is already acquainted.
We set out on the 22d of October, the day following the celebration which closes the last chapter. Our
- ↑ It affords me great satisfaction to learn recently that Harvey Heywood has served during the late war, in the Southwest, with great gallantry, winning for himself a commission, being attached to the engineers, on the general staff. I found him to be an excellent draughtsman.
