was always plump and fat. The advance party reached Depot “A” in good time, and took on five sacks (five hundred pounds) of dog pemmican and some cans of corned beef, which made their load very heavy. On the 5th of April, Lockwood reached the snow-house, and there found Brainard and the rest, making thirteen altogether. They completely filled the house, and also the dug-out in the snow-bank adjoining, so that Lockwood and Jewell moved the provisions out of the tent, and slept there, and Frederick in the tunnel. The tent being snowed in to the ridge-pole, and connected with the tunnel, they were quite comfortable. On the same day they saw an eagle on a floe-berg, which was considered a good omen. After needed rest all hands took their departure. The snow on the ice-floe was somewhat deep, and the loads very heavy. The route across the straits, previously determined on, was from Cape Beechy to within five or six miles of the east shore, and then as direct as possible to Cape Sumner. On reaching the tent on the straits, about four and one half miles out, Lockwood dropped his load, and went back to look after the sledges, then out of sight. He found Whistler sick and unable to pull, and Biederbick and Connell trying to pull the load without him—not an encouraging commencement of a long journey. Aided by the dog-sledge, all soon reached the tent and camped for the night. Lockwood, Jewell, and Frederick slept in the wall-tent, pitched there some weeks before. Lockwood writes at this point: “Finding it very cold, I was glad to get up and out, leaving Jewell to the unhappy work of getting breakfast. (Breakfast! what a misnomer in such cases!) I then went to the two tents occupied by the others to inquire for healths. Mr. Henry, correspondent of the ‘Chicago Times’ (as he called himself), the same who had written on the side of a large iceberg, ‘Ho! for Cape Britannia,’ said he could go no farther, as he had been suffering dreadfully all night with rheumatism; or, if he did go farther, we would have to haul him back, while from here he thought he could manage to hobble by himself to the snow-house, and, after resting there and again at Depot ‘A,’ reach the station. Henry is a big fellow, over six feet in height, with apparently the strength and physique of Hercules. It was a bad omen for the rest of us when _he_ broke down. Connell had frozen his feet the previous day quite badly, and only discovered the extent of the injury after getting into camp, but thought _he_ could go on, or at least was determined to try. All hands looked very forlorn, but generally were resolute and determined. Finally, Jewell had the tea and canned meat warmed sufficiently, and we stuffed ourselves with all there was to stuff, and prepared to follow the others who had already started. We overtook Fredericks (the saddler) struggling along in the snow with a sledge all by himself. He was a dwarf by the side of the giant Henry. It was