At Cape Washington, also, I placed a copy of Lockwood’s record, from the cairn at Lockwood Island with the following indorsement: This copy of the record left by Lieut. J. B. Lockwood and Sergt. (now Colonel) D. L. Brainard, U. S. A., in the cairn on Lockwood Island southwest of here, May 16, 1882, is to-day placed by me in this cairn on the farthest land seen by them, as a tribute to two brave men, one of whom gave his life for his Arctic work. May 29th, 1900. For a few minutes on one of the marches the fog lifted, giving us a magnificent panorama of the north coast mountains. Very sombre and savage they looked, towering white as marble with the newly fallen snow, under their low, threatening canopy of lead-coloured clouds. Two herds of musk-oxen were passed, one of fifteen and one of eighteen, and two or three stragglers. Four of these were shot for dog-food, and the skin of one, killed within less than a mile of the extreme northern point, has been brought back as a trophy for the Club. Once free of the fog off Mary Murray Island we made rapid progress, reaching Cape North in four marches from Cape Washington. Clear weather showed us the existence of open water a few miles off the shore, extending from Dome Cape to Cape Washington. At Black Cape there was a large open water reaching from the shore northward. Everywhere along this coast I was impressed by the startling evidence of the violence of the blizzard of a few days before. The polar pack had been driven resistlessly in against the iron coast, and at every projecting point had risen to the crest of the ridge of old ice, along the outer edge of the ice-foot, in a terrific cataract of huge blocks. In places these mountains of shattered ice were 100 feet or more in height. The old ice in the bays and fiords had had its outer edge loaded with a great ridge of ice fragments, and was itself cracked and crumpled into huge swells by the resistless pressure. All the young ice which had helped us on our onward passage had been crushed into countless fragments and swallowed up in the general chaos. Though hampered by fog, the passage from Cape North to Cape Bryant was made in twenty-five and one-half marching hours. At 7 A. M. of the 6th of June we camped on the end of the ice-foot, at the eastern end of Black Horn Cliffs. A point a few hundred feet up the bluffs, commanding the region in front of the cliffs, showed it to be filled by small pieces of old ice, held in place against the shore by pressure of the outside pack. It promised at best the heaviest kind of work, with the certainty that it would run abroad at the first release of pressure. The next day, when about one-third the way across, the ice did begin to open out, and it was only after a rapid and hazardous dash from cake to cake that we reached an old floe, which, after several hours of heavy work, allowed us to climb upon the ice-foot of the western end of the cliffs.