The teams, each driven by its master, were next brought up, as near as safety permitted, to the narrow, slippery pathway. The dogs were then seized by their collars, and one by one dragged across safely. Next the sledges were brought forward. Turning them upon one runner, they were pushed along until the dogs could make them feel the traces; then a fierce shout from their drivers caused a sudden and vigorous spring of the animals, which whirled the sledges beyond the danger of sliding off the precipice. Cautiously, one by one, then came the remaining members of the party, all holding their breath in painful suspense, and each, we trust, in silent prayer, until all were safe over. The Divine arm and eye had been with us! We could not have gone back, nor have turned to the right or left. A few inches less of width in the ice-foot, or slightly more slope, and we had all perished! Except some frost bites on our fingers, every man was all right. We had traveled five miles on the ice shelf above the foaming sea. We now had a smooth, safe ice-foot, which conducted us soon to the solid ice-field of Etah Bay. Across this, fifteen miles, we scampered with joyous speed, and arrived at the village of our old Esquimo friends, a worn and weary, but thankful party. Good news met us at the hut. Petersen and Bonsall had, we were told, preceded us, and arrived safely at the ship. But our trials were not ended. There was a sledge journey of ninety-one miles yet awaiting us. Dr. Hayes's frosted feet gave him intense pain and he could not sleep. There was danger, if the heat of the hut thawed them, that he would lose them altogether. So, after only four hours' rest, he whispered his intention of a speedy departure toward the "Advance," to Sontag, who was to take charge of the party; he then crept stealthily out of the hut, accompanied by Ootinah, the faithful Esquimo from Karsooit. Sontag was not to mention his departure to his comrades until they were rested and refreshed. He had hardly started before the rest of our company were at his heels. They did not wish their leader to endure the perils of the journey without them; besides, they too had reason for a desire to be speedily at the brig. The wind was high, the floe full of hummocks, the cold intense, and altogether the journey was not unlike in its dangers that already endured. Whipple, ere they had reached the end, began to whisper that he was not cold, and finally fell from the rear sledge, benumbed and senseless, and was not missed until he was a hundred yards behind. He was lifted again to the sledge, but others gave signs of the approach of the same insensibility.