Whatever obstacles may be in our way now along this rafter (and God knows there will be enough of them of one kind or another) there should be no rivers to ford and such lakes as there are will in all probability be parallel to our route. This going is as yet not quite as bad as the return from the July trip in Princess Marie Bay in 1899, but there is plenty of room for it to become a good deal worse in the miles between here and the _Roosevelt_. Fifteen years ago to-day, I broke my right leg in Melville Bay. Two played-out dogs killed and fed to the others. _Near Cape Richards, July 13th._—At last we are round the corner (Cape Fanshawe Martin) which we have been struggling toward for four days (including to-day) and which has seemed to recede as fast as we advance. The going to-day much the same as yesterday, perhaps a little better at the end, but I got my worst wetting, a slip of my feet while pushing the sledges over a bad place, sending me into the water up to my waist. This rendered the latter part of the march somewhat uncomfortable. But one gets used to this constant wetting (as they say one gets used to anything) and I no longer mind my saturated clothing. I wring it out when I turn in, and give it another twist when I turn out. It has reminded me of my Nicaraguan experiences, but the temperature of both air and water is somewhat different here. The sun shone a little at the last camp and during perhaps half of this march, but we have faced throughout the march, a strong and searching northeast wind with the temperature below the freezing point. The glacier west of Cape Fanshawe Martin is an active one; its face ten feet to forty feet high. A detached “floeberg” which I estimated to be one and one-quarter miles long, and one-half mile wide, lies frozen in a hundred yards or so off its face. The face of this “floeberg” would average twenty feet to twenty-eight feet above the water. Two Arctic terns flew over us while we were coming round the Cape. _McClintock Bay, July 14th._—The wind blew continuously and violently at the last camp, and the sun shone occasionally and was shining when we started. I thought I would try the inside route, _i. e._ along the tidal crack well into the bay, but an hour’s travelling along the glacier face, brought us to a position where I could overlook the bay, and I saw at once that it was entirely impracticable. The surface of the bay was completely covered with large connecting lakes and wide streams. The route along the outer edge of the ice-foot was the only way, and to reach this we were obliged to retrace our steps to camp, and were then bothered by two or three lakes, and one large river which forced us well out among the floes with their waist-deep drifts, before we could get around it. In this way we lost three hours.