On reaching the Coppermine they found it greatly swollen with the melting snow and strewn with loose ice. Delay, however, was intolerable to the explorers, and they determined to make the best of their way down to the sea without more ado. Navigation was extremely dangerous, for the river went raging down between gigantic precipices, along whose base the breakers raged and foamed with overwhelming fury. Simpson’s account of the shooting of Escape Rapid, which they reached at noon on the first day of their journey, is well worth quoting as showing the sort of difficulties with which they had to contend: “A glance at the overhanging cliffs,” he says, “told us that there was no alternative but to run down with a full cargo. In an instant we were in the vortex, and, before we were aware, my boat was borne towards an isolated rock which the boiling surge almost concealed. To clear it on the outside was no longer possible; our only chance was to run between it and the lofty eastern cliff. The word was passed, and every breath was hushed. A stream which dashed down upon us over the brow of the precipice, more than a hundred feet in height, mingled with the spray that whirled upwards from the rapid, forming a terrific shower bath. The pass was about eight feet wide, and the error of a single foot would have been instant destruction. As, guided by Sinclair’s consummate skill, the boat shot safely through those jaws of death, an involuntary cheer arose. Our next impulse was to turn round to view the fate of our comrades behind. They had profited by the peril we incurred and kept without the treacherous rock in time. The waves there were still higher, and for a while we lost sight of our friends. When they emerged the first object visible was the bowman disgorging part of an intrusive wave which he had swallowed and looking half-drowned. Mr Dease afterwards told me that the spray, which completely enveloped them, formed a gorgeous rainbow round the boat.” They reached the shores of the Polar Sea on July 1, and here they were doomed to disappointment. The winter had been one of exceptional length and severity, and in consequence the shores of the sea itself were so encumbered with ice as to make navigation almost impossible. They pushed slowly along, but they found both Coronation Gulf and Melville Sound completely covered with solid ice, and by August 19, when the time was rapidly approaching for them to return, they were still three miles short of the furthest point reached by Franklin.