He wrote a dispatch from this high latitude in which he says, "We have all been well up to this time." A copy of it was placed in a copper cylinder and buried under a pile of stones. The party turned their faces homeward; Captain Hall's Arctic explorations were ended. CHAPTER XLI. DISASTER. [Illustration: Unloading Stores from the "Polaris."] ABOUT noon of October twenty-fourth Captain Hall and his party were seen in the distance approaching the ship. Captain Tyson, the assistant navigator, went out to meet them. Not even a dog had been lost, and Captain Hall was jubilant over his trip and the future of the expedition. While he was absent the work of banking up the "Polaris" with snow as an increased defense against the cold, the building of a house on shore for the stores, and their removal to it from the ship, had gone forward nearly to completion. He looked at the work, greeted all cheerfully, and entered the cabin. He obtained water, and washed and put on clean underclothes. The steward, Mr. Herron, asked him what he would have to eat, expressing at the same time a wish to get him "something nice." He thanked him, but said he wanted only a cup of coffee, and complained of the heat of the cabin. He drank a part of the cup of coffee and set it aside. Soon after he complained of sickness at the stomach, and threw himself into his berth. Chester, the mate, and Morton, second mate, watched with him all night, during which he was at times delirious. It was thought he was partially paralyzed. The surgeon, Dr. Bessel, was in constant attendance, but after temporary improvement he became wildly delirious, imagining some one had poisoned him, and accused first one, then another. He thought he saw blue gas coming from the mouths of persons about him. He refused clean stockings at the hand of Chester, thinking they were poisoned, and he made others taste the food tendered him before taking it himself, even that from sealed cans opened in his cabin. During the night of November seventh he was clear in his mind, and as Surgeon Bessel was putting him to bed and tucking him in, he said in his own kind tone, "Doctor, you have been very kind to me, and I am obliged to you." Early in the morning of November eighth he died, and with his death the American North Polar Expedition was ended. The grave of their beloved commander was dug by the men under Captain Tyson, inland, southeast, about a half mile from the "Polaris." The frozen ground yielded reluctantly to the picks, and the grave was of necessity very shallow.