_March 4th._—Still blowing viciously from the west with blinding drift. My men came in from feeding the dogs, with their clothes driven full of snow. Of course, everything is still stalled by the furious wind. Henson should be three marches out on the ice, Bartlett two, and the Doctor one. Clark is at Point Moss, I am here with four men, and Marvin should be on Fielden Peninsula. I have, however, no reason to complain of the weather. From the 19th till yesterday there has been no really bad weather and the first five days here were perfect, considering the place and the season, enabling me to get my parties away and attend to all essential details without serious discomfort. Now we are well supplied with food, and the dogs have plenty to eat and are well sheltered. The wind has closed all the water, for the time being at least. My new device, the alcohol lamp, is working out finely and makes tea or coffee almost in no time. [Illustration: WEIGHING MUSK-OX MEAT ] [Illustration: REINDEER AND MUSK-OX MEAT IN THE RIGGING ] [Illustration: CROSSING FIELDEN PENINSULA ] Marvin came in from the ship at 9 P. M. of the 4th, with three Eskimos and Ryan, the fireman who was to take young Percy’s place, the latter having been invalided back to the ship with an injured eye. On the 5th, the last eight sledges got away for Point Moss, I bringing up the rear with Inueto, as I had to see that things remaining at Hecla were left in order, and the permanent igloo there closed against wind and drifting snow. The day was clear and cold with violent gusts of wind from the northwest driving in our faces. My sledge being loaded with bulky articles of spare equipment, was somewhat top-heavy and repeatedly capsized. I arrived at Point Moss a little before midnight, after a good but fatiguing march. It was brilliant moonlight, and the twilight arc now swung nearly all the way through north. March 6th I left Point Moss and headed northward from the land over the Polar pack. In 1902 it was just a month later that I left Hecla going north. And four years previous, on the 6th of March, I left Payer Harbour with eighteen sledges on a journey which took me to 84° 17′ north latitude; a great march as regards distance and latitude covered. I quote from my Journal: “If I can do as well this time we shall win. God and all good angels grant it, and let me seize this great trophy for the Flag.” We were rather late in getting started and it was noon when we left the edge of the ice some two miles north of the land. Here the sun was visible for a few moments through a notch in the southern mountains. Was it a good omen? I thought that it must be. An ideal day, clear and calm and bitter cold, the southern sky vivid yellow, the northern rose-coloured like my dreams. The going was good at first though our trail was tortuous, but later became extremely arduous.