After noon asked the captain for the skin whaleboat to explore the shore. The latter is nearly a mile distant and shows about 60 feet high dirt bluffs. Got the boat and went with the boatswain. Berg, a young "hand," Weenie, and the movie man, La Voy. Rowed with La Voy. Had a wholesome two and a half hours exploring. Found a little stream, with traces of native deer camp (collected two seal skulls); a moderate number of flowers and grasses (collected some mushrooms); some fossil shells from the bluffs; and two Eskimo burials. One of these, a woman, nearly all washed away and lost; of the other, a man, secured the skull, jaw, one shoulder blade and part of a diseased femur with corresponding socket (mushroom arthritis), also the two humeri. A good specimen. Returned, rowing again, near 4. All there playing cribbage and solitaire. Am tempted to walk to Barrow; but there are some streams in the way which it might be impossible to ford. Moreover, no one knows the distance. Sunday, August 8. Morning finds us once more thwarted, and standing at our place of refuge. No change in conditions, but there will be a change of moon to-night, so I at least have hopes. In my travels I learned too much about the moon not to believe in it. Toward evening ice begins to move out. Monday, August 9. At 12.30 a. m., unexpectedly, a new start. The wind has turned at last (new moon!) to northeast, but is mild. Soon in ice. Many bumps and much creaking and shaking. Captain's collie gets scared and tries to get into our beds, one after another. But very little sleep under these conditions. In the morning we find ourselves in a thicker ice field than any before, with floes on all sides. Boat barely creeps. Toward 10 a. m. further progress found almost impossible, and so forced to turn backward once more. However, can not even go back and so, near 12, anchor about a mile offshore opposite a small river with lagoon-like mouth and two tents of natives--"Shinara," or "Shinerara." Ask captain for a boat to visit and explore the coast. Consents, and so at 1 we go forth, about eight of us, with the captain's dog. Reach Eskimo, photograph the group. All look remarkably Indianlike. Then go to look for skeletal material. Nothing near, so return for the Eskimo boy. He leads me about a mile over the highland tundra to two burials in boxes--not old. Look through crevices shows in one an adolescent, in the other a female (or a boy) with hair and skin still on. Leave both. Then into the boat once more after buying some fossil teeth, and with the boy Isaac--his father is Abraham--try to go into the river, and soon get stuck in the stickiest mud (oily shale) imaginable--great work to clean even the oar with which we had to push ourselves off. Land then on the beach and for the next two hours explore that side of the basin. Find remains of two small settlements--seven huts in all, none very old.