The tent was pitched as soon as it came up, then a circular wind-guard was built of snow blocks, the meat and bones dragged close to it, the skins spread inside, a tiny fire started with some willow twigs gathered in the vicinity, and helped out by pieces of a sledge, then my Eskimos sat themselves round and with occasional brief winks of sleep ate continuously for nearly two days and nights. I did my share too, and at the end of the time the pile of cleaned bones about the shelter was almost beyond belief. When I use the word cleaned I use it in its fullest sense. When a hungry Eskimo leaves a bone a fly could not find a mouthful about it. The meat has been gnawed off, the periosteum stripped off with the teeth like the bark from a twig, the bone split, the marrow removed, and the cavity sucked and licked till it is dry. Our first march from the musk-oxen carried us abreast of Stephenson Island and was a particularly dragging one. The debilitating effect of our very generous diet of meat, much of which was eaten raw, did not show itself so much while we were quiescent in camp, but was very pronounced when we undertook to travel. I imagined at least that I felt weaker than at any time during the return, but my head was much more active, and I cheated the time away as I tramped mechanically in an air-line toward Cape May setting the trail for the rest of the party to follow, by plans for my western trip to be undertaken after we got back to the _Roosevelt_, and even went beyond the bounds of the present expedition and lifted myself out of the weary drag of our present surroundings by thoughts of home matters. The next march brought us to Cape May, where we found numbers of hare tracks but did not secure any of the animals. A few willow twigs obtained here enabled us to cook some of the pieces of remaining meat. I had hoped on the next march to reach Cape Bryant and so be in a position to scout the neighbouring country for the musk-oxen which I felt sure we should find in the region from Cape Bryant to Repulse Harbour. Our strength, however, was not equal to the entire width of Sherard Osborn and St. George’s fiords at one pull, and we camped on the ice some four or five miles east of Cape Bryant. At this camp we finished the last of the musk-ox meat. Feeling sure that we should find musk-oxen in the rolling country from Cape Bryant westward I had made no attempt to restrain my men, and both during the march and while in camp they were eating continuously when not asleep. From this camp the entire shore from Cape Bryant into St. George’s Fiord was very carefully examined with the spy glass for musk-oxen or their tracks, but without success.