became necessary to transfer a part of his load to Knorr's sledge, in order that he might ride. Not wishing to be detained by this circumstance, I put a belt across McDonald's shoulders, took one myself, and gave one to Knorr, and we each pulled, I dare say, as much as the best dog in the team.
On the second day's march the ice was found to be jammed in a terrible manner upon Cape Napoleon, so that we were quite unable to reach the shore at that place, and were forced to hold out into the Sound and become once more entangled among the hummocks. A thick fog, completely veiling the land, coming upon us from the north, and a shower of snow following after, caused us so much bewilderment that we were obliged to camp and await better weather.
The land-ice was reached next morning, and during that day we made a brisk run to the north side of Cape Frazer—the first time that we had struck a trot since leaving Cairn Point. Our camp was made near the furthest point reached by me in 1854.
KENNEDY CHANNEL. We were now within Kennedy Channel, which I had before barely entered. The ice in the entrance of the Channel was much like that of the Sound below; so that we were obliged to adhere to the land-ice, even while crossing Gould Bay,[1] which lies between Capes Leidy and Frazer, and which I once thought would furnish a good winter harbor. Indeed, this was the bay which it was my aim to reach with my vessel the previous autumn. The little flag-staff, which I had before planted at this place, was discovered, still standing erect among the rocks; but not a vestige of the flag remained. The winds had whipped it entirely away.
- ↑ So named in honor of Dr. B. A. Gould, of Cambridge.
