My two men returned before noon with three hare, all small and with very long ears. It occurred to me this might be a new species or variety. The head of one was turning brown. One female contained five young, ready for delivery. My men saw twelve hare in all. They also saw the tracks of a large bull musk-ox, made before the recent snowfall, going east, and the antlers of a deer. A fine, warm, sunny day enabled us to dry out our clothing and gear, all wet from the recent snowfall. Up to this time, I had not encroached upon the store of pemmican with which I left Point Moss, the captain’s small cache of four cans just making the one feed which I gave the dogs off Challenger Point, and the rest of their feeds having been from the Columbia musk-ox. When we turned out at Cape Alexandra we had rabbit stew for breakfast. From Cape Alexandra we went on in eight and one-quarter hours, to McClintock Bay, the going heavy through the recently fallen snow, and everyone wearing snowshoes as usual. We attempted to cut across over the foreshore from Cape Alexandra to Cape Discovery, but found the grade too heavy, and the snow still deeper; and as I did not feel like breaking the trail ahead on snowshoes, we descended again, and went round it. We camped about in the middle of McClintock Bay, which looked very little as it appears on the chart. The eastern arm is a large deep inlet, running in about west to south (magnetic), and the middle western arm bends more to the west than shown. Cape Discovery is a bold mass, with a small glacier between the two arms of the bay, and there is apparently a large glacier ahead, for the point of which we are travelling. This entire bay with its ramifications is a black-walled indentation, its shores nearly continuous cliffs, except at the head of the middle arm, and apparently at the head of the eastern arm. Any party traversing this coast and having the time, would do well to examine these two places, and if in need of meat should certainly do so as they will be likely to find musk-ox there. The night while we marched was raw, a fresh easterly wind blowing, and everything obscured by fog and clouds until about 4 A. M. when it cleared and gave us brilliant sunlight. It looked now as if the last of the recent storm had disappeared, but one can never tell up here. Our camp here was nearer to the sea ice (the edge of which was distinctly visible) than any since leaving Cape Hecla. I was still inclined to think that the peculiar ice and snow formations along this coast owe their existence to the wind. At the camp off McClintock Bay a clear brilliant day with light easterly breeze, and late in the afternoon strata of fog forming and hiding the tops of the land, was followed by a foggy night for travelling, but better so than bright sun. We marched in deep snow until the increased density of the fog made it impossible to see where we were going, then camped off the Glacier at Cape Fanshawe Martin.