march ahead of me, and given us unnecessary and disagreeable labour and discomfort in building an additional igloo in the wind and driving snow. When we left this camp, I found, as I had expected, that the storm had caused pronounced changes in the ice. Some two miles from camp a newly formed lane of water a hundred yards or more wide gave us some trouble to negotiate, and at two other places enormous pressure leads had been formed across the Captain’s trail. The northern ice in every instance had shifted to the eastward. Several narrow leads that the Captain’s party passed, and on which the intense cold had already formed young ice gave us no trouble. Our camp at the end of this march was located in a hollow between two enormous hummocks on a large old floe. I quote from my Journal: Though I fight against it continuously, I find it impossible under conditions like to-day not to indulge in some thoughts of _success_ as I tramp along, and I get so impatient that I do not want to stop at the igloos but keep right on and on. At night I can hardly sleep waiting for the dogs to get rested sufficiently to start again. Then I think, what will be the effect if some insuperable obstacle, open water, absolutely impossible ice, or an enormous fall of snow knock me out now when everything looks so encouraging? Will it break my heart, or will it simply numb me into insensibility? And then I think, what’s the odds, in two months at the longest the agony will be over, and I shall know one way or the other, and then whichever way it turns out, before the leaves fall I shall be back on Eagle Island again, going over the well-known places with Jo and the children, and listening to the birds, the wind in the trees, and the sound of lapping waves (do such things really exist on this frozen planet?). Four good marches were reeled off from cache number two in good weather. Ten years ago I would have called these marches fully fifteen miles each, now I hoped they were at least twelve. In the second march there was considerable young ice which I feared might give the Captain some trouble on his return march. A vigorous wind at any time would cause the big floes on either side of this ice to crumble it up like so much window glass and leave only an irregular rafter or two to show that it ever existed. At one of our camps the night was the most uncomfortable yet. We and everything in the igloo were thickly covered with our frozen breath, and it seemed impossible to make the stove give out heat enough to boil our tea. The thermometer which I carried with me to prevent breaking had a bubble jarred into it by my falling in rough ice and was stubborn to remedy. There was little doubt, however, that our temperature was in the minus sixties. Several leads in these marches gave us some trouble, causing considerable detours and the records of Henson and the Captain in their igloos showed that they had had the same trouble. I quote from my Journal: