Unfortunately for Hayes, the astronomer of the expedition, August Sonntag, who had assisted Kane in the same capacity, was frozen to death on a sledge journey, and the doctor was left to do the work for himself, with disappointing results, as with errors of many miles in either latitude or longitude his journeys can only be noticed in a very general way. In October, 1860, he proceeded for some distance over the glacier to the east of his wintering place. The first attempt to scale the glacier was attended by what might have been a serious accident. The foremost member of the party missed his footing as he was clambering up the rude steps, and, sliding down the steep side, scattered those who were below him to the right and left and sent them rolling into the valley beneath. The next effort was more successful, and, the end of a rope being carried over the side of the glacier, the sledge was drawn up the inclined plane and a fair start obtained. A little further on Hayes was only saved from disappearing down a crevasse by clutching a pole he was carrying on his shoulder. Next day, the surface being smoother, more progress was made, and they reached a plain of compact snow covered with a crust through which the feet broke at every step. The day afterwards the cold grew more intense and a gale came on. At night the men complained bitterly and could not sleep, and as the storm increased in strength they were forced to leave the tent and by active exercise prevent themselves from freezing. [Illustration: THE SHORES OF KENNEDY CHANNEL] To face the wind was impossible, and shelter was nowhere to be found upon the unbroken plain, there being but one direction in which they could move, that being with their backs to the gale. It was not without difficulty that the tent was taken down and bundled upon the sledge, the wind blowing so fiercely that they could scarcely roll it up with their stiffened hands. The men were in pain and could only hold on for a few moments to the hardened canvas, their fingers, freezing continually, requiring vigorous pounding to keep them on the flickering verge of life. "In the midst of a vast frozen Sahara, with neither hill, mountain, nor gorge anywhere in view," says Hayes, "fitful clouds swept over the face of the full-orbed moon, which, descending toward the horizon, glimmered through the drifting snow that whirled out of the illimitable distance, and scudded over the icy plain, to the eye in undulating lines of downy softness, to the flesh in showers of piercing darts. Our only safety was in flight; and like a ship driven before a tempest which she cannot withstand, and which has threatened her ruin, we turned our backs to the gale; and, hastening down the slope, we ran to save our lives. We travelled upwards of forty miles, and had descended about three thousand feet before we ventured to halt."