THE DIFFICULTIES MULTIPLYING.—SLEDGE BROKEN.—REFLECTIONS ON THE PROSPECT.—THE MEN BREAKING DOWN.—WORSE AND WORSE.—THE SITUATION.—DEFEAT OF MAIN PARTY.—RESOLVE TO SEND THE PARTY BACK AND CONTINUE THE JOURNEY WITH DOGS.
April 24th.
These journal entries are becoming rather monotonous. I have little to set down to-day that I did not set down yesterday. There is no variety in this journeying over the same track, week in and week out, in the same endless snarl continually,—to-day almost in sight of our camp of yesterday, the sledge broken, the men utterly exhausted, and the dogs used up. We are now twenty-two days from the schooner, and have made on our course not more than an average of three miles a day. From Cairn Point we are distant about thirty miles, and our progress from that place has been slow indeed. Grinnell Land looms up temptingly above the frozen sea to the north of us, but it rises very slowly. I have tried to carry out my original design of striking for Cape Sabine, but the hummocks were wholly impassable in that direction, and I have had to bear more to the northward. The temperature has risen steadily, but it is still very low and colder than during the greater part of the winter at Port Foulke. The lowest to-day was 19° below zero, calm and clear, and the sun blazing upon us as in the early spring-time at home.
