Lockwood had told Lynn to send back to Conger three of his party on reaching Boat Camp. The remaining three awaited his return. The work of pitching tent woke up the other party, and soon they heard the sound of the Polaris fog-horn (picked up near by), and saw three heads projecting from the tent, whose owners gave them a warm welcome, as well they might, after awaiting their return nearly a month at this place, the dreariest of all in that dreary region. The remaining stores were ransacked for a big feast, without regard to the rations. Corned and boiled beef, canned potatoes and beans, butter, milk, and canned peaches, made a meal fit for a king or for gods that had just experienced an Arctic sledge-journey. The monotonous life of these men had been varied only by a visit from two bears, and the arrival of Dr. Pavy—sent by Lieutenant Greely with some rations. The news from the station was that Dr. Pavy with Sergeant Rice and Esquimaux Jans had got only as far as Cape Joseph Henry, when they were stopped by open water. Lockwood had taken it for granted that the doctor would attain Markham’s latitude and excel his own. Lieutenant Greely had been west from Fort Conger on a trip of twelve days in the mountains, and had discovered a large lake with a river flowing out of it, which had no ice on its surface—something very wonderful. The vegetation had also shown a much milder atmosphere than anywhere else in these latitudes. Numerous Esquimaux relics had been found, and many musk-oxen seen. Turning their backs on the Boat Camp, and with many loud blasts on the Polaris fog-horn, they started at 11.25 P. M. for Fort Conger. The snow along the snow-slopes was badly drifted, but with so many to help, they got along without much delay and soon reached Cape Sumner. They found the rubble-ice south of that point worse than before, and here and there were little pools of water. The weather was very thick, the wind blowing and snow falling, and the farther side of the straits completely hidden, so that they went _via_ the Gap, but there had to leave the shore and direct their course as well as possible by compass. Presently they could see neither shore, and got into a mass of rubble-ice, mixed with soft snow-drifts. Lynn and party (Ralston and Ellison) had not traveled any for so long that they began to get very much fatigued, and could not keep up with the sledge. They had not slept since the arrival at the Boat Camp, owing to the excitement of the occasion. The driving snow hurt their eyes, and they were a very sorry party. However, they kept on, and finally came in sight of the west coast, and some hours afterward, finding good floes to travel over, a little before noon reached the “tent on the straits”—about five miles from Cape Beechy—Ellison and Ralston completely exhausted.