It rained continuously during the 2d, with fresh southwesterly breeze, making it not exactly impossible, but disagreeable for us to travel, and preventing the drying of the deerskins. As before, however, with a waterproof tent over us, and plenty of food for our dogs and ourselves, we were physically very comfortable, and slept much of the time, my two men almost literally all the time. I knew, however, that every hour of the rain was making our return road more difficult, and as soon as the rain ceased (about midnight), we broke camp and started, getting away from the extremity of Twenty-mile Cape at 2 A. M. this morning. The entire bay which we crossed on the 1st, was now a continuous sheet of water. The first two or three miles of the channel were very decent. After that, it was only by following the deep snow along the pressure ridge (a road impracticable without our snowshoes and broad-runner sledge) that we were able to advance. On each side were lakes of water, and deep morasses of slush. When we took a step without snowshoes we would go in to mid-thigh or even hip. Fortunately the dogs feel the effects of the rest and generous fare on Jesup Land, and we made practically the same time as in going over. Of course our feet and legs were soaked in the ice-water from the very start, crossing the morasses from one piece of decent going to another. At noon we reached the edge of the ice-foot on this side, and found it a broad river, which we had to ford to get to the site of our camp. We have crossed without any time to spare. In one or two days at most, the channel will be impassable for two or three weeks (depending upon local conditions) until the snow has all melted and the water drained off. On this side the change has been very pronounced since we left. Where there was just enough bare gravel for us to set the tent a few days ago, are now acres of snow-free ground. Looking over this region I am struck with the pronounced igneous or even volcanic character of the rock specimens, something very much like pumice and slag being abundant. Is it possible that the twin snow-mountains back of us are extinct volcanoes? The march from Southwest camp to Observation Camp was the hardest and most disagreeable of all, and the thirty-six hours the most uncomfortable of the entire trip. We got away from Southwest Camp at 2 A. M. of the 4th. The promise of the previous afternoon of good weather, had not been kept, and all but the base of the land was buried in cloud (Jesup Land of course invisible). For an hour we got along fairly well following the raised edges of a tidal crack, then fog descended upon us and we waded and floundered through pools of water to the land at West Point (which is really one of three islands). Along the shore of this, and the next island, was decent going on deep snow, and so across the ice-foot to the edge of the tidal crack west of Northwesterly Point and along this to the point itself.