Taking to the road on foot, Scoland exerted his wiry strength to the utmost, and his exhaustion of body was not all simulated when he staggered into the winter camp of the expedition on the bay shore. A storm had arisen, and none of the men was abroad when the captain reached the camp. He reeled to the door of the first shack and knocked. When the door was opened, he fell on his face within. His face was frost-nipped, and he had purposely exposed his hands and arms to the blasts as much as he dared, not wishing to disable himself permanently. Consternation thrilled through the shack on his appearance, and there was a rush of questioning men. Brandy was poured down his throat, and his limbs were chafed with snow as he lay in well-feigned unconsciousness. When he opened his eyes again, Scoland waved the eager men aside weakly. "Take me to the ship," he commanded. Tender hands bore him to a boat. Once in his cabin on the _Minnetonka_, he ordered Lieutenant Everson to strike the shore camp at once, and make preparations for an immediate departure. "Tell the men that the Sardanian relief expedition is a complete failure," he said wearily. "Three of our men--God rest them--have lost their lives--" "What!" Everson exclaimed. "Wright and Janess! Are they gone?" Scoland nodded. "Yes, and Parkerson, too, poor fellow. The valley of Sardanes--I have been there--lies buried under many feet of snow. Its people must have perished months ago. Not one trace of humanity did I find there, except one old stone building in the shadow of the cliffs at the north end of the valley." "But the other party, and their dog team--are you sure?" Everson gasped. "Sure--too sure," replied Scoland. "I found their bones in the snow beside their sledge, not five miles from the valley. They never reached it. How they died was impossible to tell. Their bones were picked clean by the bears. Their dogs may have gone mad with the snow distemper and turned on them when one of them slept on his watch; the bears may have attacked them in force; a sudden tempest may have overwhelmed them--I could not tell. They are gone. We buried them in the snow. "I think probably it was the dogs. Mine turned on me. We were on the way back, Parkerson and I. The brutes went mad. They pulled him down before I could get them. He was on watch, and I was asleep. I--I shot them all--but it was too late. I buried him in the snow, also, and came on alone and on foot. My God, what a journey! "Tell Lennon to put up a tablet on the headland above the bay. Get up steam and let us get away from this accursed land before some mishaps engulfs us all." Groaning, he turned his swollen face to the wall. Everson went on deck and imparted the news to the members of the crew. The men gathered aft, while the young lieutenant read the burial service. Within six hours the bay shore was deserted and the _Minnetonka_ was churning northward, a long wake of black smoke trailing over the waters behind her.