Parry set sail at the end of April with instructions to make direct for Hudson’s Strait. Thence he was to sail westward until he should reach some part of the mainland of North America. On striking the coast he was to turn northward, and to examine every bay and inlet which might seem to afford a passage to the west, thus practically taking up the work of exploration where it had been dropped by Captain Middleton, who, in 1742, discovered Wager Inlet, and penetrated as far north as Cape Hope, near the entrance to Repulse Bay. He reached Southampton Island on April 27, and after some delay occasioned by the ice, he succeeded in passing through Frozen Strait and making Repulse Bay. Up till that day the precise nature of the bay had never been determined, and it was believed by many to be in reality the entrance to a strait. Parry, however, soon discovered that it was actually a bay, and he accordingly turned northward in pursuit of his quest for a western passage. The coast along which he was now sailing was so broken that his progress was necessarily slow, and when the beginning of October came he found himself no further north than the entrance to Lyon Inlet. The work that he did during those six weeks, however, though terribly tedious, was of immense value, for he mapped out every mile of a coast-line which had never been explored before. It was now too late in the season for him to make much further progress that year, so he set sail to the south-east with a view to discovering comfortable winter quarters on the south side of Winter Island. On October 8, after a dangerous voyage through the ice, he found a bay which seemed admirably adapted for the purpose, and here, accordingly, he hove too and put everything ship-shape and in order for the long winter months. Of the manner in which the crew beguiled their time it is unnecessary to speak at length. The theatrical performances, which had proved so successful on the previous voyage, were repeated, concerts were held, and everything possible was done to ward off that archenemy of the Arctic explorer, the scurvy. At the same time, of course, scientific observations were carried on without intermission. At the beginning of February a party of Eskimos put in an appearance, and the explorers were astonished to find that a complete village had sprung up in their neighbourhood with a rapidity which is generally supposed to be the sole prerogative of castles in fairy stories. The explanation was that not a single material was employed in the construction of the huts except snow and ice. The natives proved exceptionally friendly and rather less greedy than most of their race. As a rule the first Eskimo word that the uninitiated traveller is taught is “pilletay”—“give me”—which springs to a native’s lips whenever his eyes light upon an object which he has not seen before.