half-starved and almost exhausted, when it is simply a matter of throwing one’s weight forward a little and sliding one snowshoe past the other, until the last minute of endurance is reached. My Mascart Inlet men came back unsuccessful, but the two hare-hunters brought in six, and this made things look somewhat brighter. As can readily be understood, however, the addition of four starving men to my party of eight half-famished ones in no way lightened my responsibilities. One thing was in my favour. The sledge journey along this coast in 1900 had shown me the places where the musk-oxen which must be our salvation would most likely be found, and leaving Cape Neumeyer, I led the trail past the end of Ellison Island, and thence through the channel between Britannia Island and Nares Land, in order to examine the coast from Nares Land to Cape May. CHAPTER VIII ALONG THE GREENLAND COAST TO THE ROOSEVELT Wearily we started westward to regain the _Roosevelt_ and I kept an Eskimo constantly scouting the shore abreast of our line of march, looking for hare, but musk-oxen were to be our salvation and instead of setting an air-line course for the north end of Britannia Island on the route which I had followed in 1900, I determined to go straight for the north end of Ellison Island and thence round the southern end of Britannia Island through the passage between it and the mainland, and from there along the coast to Cape May and Cape Bryant, as I felt satisfied that on Nares Land and in the neighbourhood of Cape May we should find musk-oxen. Our first camp was just off the precipitous black northern point of Ellison Island. Clark and Pooblah of his party did not come in till three hours after the rest of us. They could just barely crawl along. When we left camp I started them off as soon as they had their tea, they travelled so slowly. Fine weather, clear and calm, and we headed for the south end of Britannia. Arriving at the point, which is low, I sent Panikpah across overland to look for hare. Soon after rounding the point and heading for Cape May we heard one shot. We travelled just as long as we possibly could, everyone crawling along and Clark and Pooblah out of sight in the rear. The snow was about three feet deep; impracticable for a party without snowshoes, but affording good snowshoeing for a party with snowshoes and in good condition. For us it was heavy work. We camped on the ice at the intersection of a line between Victoria Inlet and Beaumont Island, and our course. Just before stopping I heard another shot from Panikpah. We had killed a dog for supper and were cutting it up when Ootah, who was carefully examining the land with the glass, yelled—“_Ooming-muksue!_” (Musk-oxen.) The cry electrified us all. I jumped out of the tent and found him looking at the Nares Land shore, seized the glass, and made out seven black spots on top of the shore bluff apparently right over the ice-foot.