The value of this locality for the southern sub-base of an expedition going north by the Smith Sound or “American” route was immediately apparent to me in 1898, and in any future work it should be given preference over Payer Harbour. Its advantages are contiguity to a valuable game region, accessibility during any month in the year, and its less changeable and boisterous climate. The work of landing the depot occupied about ten hours of the 18th, and while the work was in progress I went away with three Eskimos to a neighbouring valley which I knew, and secured three musk-oxen, a large bull, a cow, and a yearling, the latter being brought aboard alive. This animal was of the greatest interest to the crew and the “tenderfoot” members of the expedition, and the arrival of nearly eight hundred pounds of fine fresh beef created a very agreeable impression on everyone. Up to this time the rush of getting on board my Eskimos and dogs, restowing the ship and fighting the ice, had left me no time for a thought beyond the demands of each hour. Now as I trod the moss patches beside the murmuring stream whose quieter reaches were crusted with ice, saw the fresh tracks of big game and a little later the shaggy black bulks of the musk-oxen with heads lowered and hoofs stamping, in the way I knew so well, my pulses bounded rapidly and I felt that I had come into my own again. From Bache Peninsula we steamed for Hayes Point through scattered ice, with the heavy pack close on the starboard hand. Conditions were different from those of 1898, when the _Windward_ was five days crossing the mouth of Princess Marie Bay. The night was fine and I could make out every well-known rock along the Cape D’Urville shore where the _Windward_ wintered in ’98–’99. Looking into the distant depths of Princess Marie Bay, numerous episodes with bear and seals and musk-oxen crowded upon me. We experienced some trouble with ice near Hayes Point and Cape Frasier, and finally dodged into Maury Bay and anchored at noon of the 19th, to escape the large fields of very heavy ice which were moving rapidly southward before a fresh northerly wind, crashing with savage fury against the iron bastion of Cape John Sparrow under which we lay. Vigilantly watching the ice and taking advantage of every opportunity, we squeezed and hammered our way into Scoresby Bay, hugging the shore closely, and thence to Richardson Bay. Twice we nearly reached Cape Joseph Goode only to be forced back by the oncoming floes to a shelter under Cape Wilkes, close to my “Christmas” igloos of 1898, where on that unfortunate midwinter journey to Fort Conger, during which I froze both my feet, I had spent Christmas and opened a small box from loved ones at home. Rawlings Bay was packed and the ice along the Grinnell Land shore apparently unbroken. On the Greenland side it appeared less dense. During this time the weather was fine.