On Sunday all assembled in their clean and best suits. Brief religious service was performed in the presence of all, and the day was spent in reading or conversation, save the performance of the necessary routine work. During the favoring light of the moon some excursions were attempted. One was made by Professor Sontag, accompanied by Hans and Jensen with two dog sledges. The object was to reach the harbor where Dr. Kane's "Advance" had been left, and ascertain if possible her fate. He started early in November, but returned in a few days, baffled by the hummocks and wide intervening, treacherous ice-cracks. The party had an encounter with and captured a bear and her cub. The mother fought with maternal fury for her child, tossed the dogs one after another until some of the stoutest and bravest retired bleeding and yelping from the field, and at times charged upon and scattered the whole pack, while the cub itself behaved bravely in its own defense. When the men came up they threw in, of course, the fatal odds of rifle balls. Once Hans, his gun having failed to go off, seized an Esquimo lance and ran at the beast. Accepting the challenge of a hand-to-hand fight, she made at him with such spirit that he dropped the lance and ran, and nothing saved the cub from supping on Esquimo meat but two well-directed balls, which whizzed at the right moment from the guns of Sontag and Jensen. The bears made a splendid resistance to the unprovoked attack upon them in the peaceable pursuit of an honest calling, that of getting a living, but were conquered and eaten. Among the sad events of the winter was a fatal disease among the dogs. They all died but nine by the middle of December. This was alarming, for upon them depended mainly the spring excursions North Poleward. Such being the situation, Sontag took at this time the surviving dogs, and, on a sledge with Hans as a driver, started south in pursuit of Esquimo. If they could be brought with their dogs into the vicinity of the ship and fed, there would be a fair chance of having dog-sledges when they were wanted. The nearest known Esquimo family was at Northumberland Island, a hundred miles off, and others were at the south side of Whale Sound, fifty miles farther--perhaps all had gone to the most distant point. They departed in fine spirits, and well equipped. Hans cracked his whip, and the dogs, well fed and eager for a run, caused the sledge to glide over the ice with the velocity of a locomotive. Their companions sent after them a "hip! hip, hurrah!" and a "tiger." The moon shed her serene light on their path, and all seemed to promise a speedy and successful return.