We found but few interesting relics among them. Only a piece of the boat found in Wilmot Bay after the big ship sunk, and part of the block branded either "10" or "O R," with part of the R obliterated. If the ship's blocks were branded with the name of the vessel to which they were attached, this would be important as establishing the identity of the ship that drifted down as the 'Terror'. As an instance of the perversity of fate, I mention that we found among them a piece of wax candle that they had preserved all these years, while every scrap of paper had perished. We saw here a Netchillik, named Issebluet, who with his family had nearly starved to death during the summer. He was separated from the rest of his tribe, as it is customary for them to scatter during the summer, and though not lacking in skill or energy, had simply been unfortunate and unable to procure food. He was still very thin and weak when we saw him, and when he went abroad had to take a couple of dogs, whose traces, tied around his waist, helped him along. Joe was very much frightened all the time we were here, for Netchillik Toolooah was here also--the man who it was said wanted to kill some of our party--and Joe said they intended to kill all our party except the women, and obtain possession of the baggage and the two women. He said their apparent kindness was only a blind, and the day we left them he made me prance around with my pistol in my belt while the sled was being loaded. Toolooah, though not so nervous as Joe, had his rifle handy and kept his eye upon it closely. I noticed that the men all stood around, but never offered to assist in loading the sled. Toolooah said they could not very well without exposing a fact that he had noticed--that they all had their knives in their sleeves. But if they had, they took good care not to use them. Two of them accompanied us a part of the way to show us the easiest route over the heavy hill we had to cross before reaching the salt-water ice, and kindly put their shoulders to the load whenever the sled pulled hard. I saw nothing in the conduct of any of them to complain of, but everything to praise. I noticed that most of the men in this camp had their hair cut close to their heads, the style that at home is profanely called "a Reilly cut." This I ascertained was not for personal adornment, but for convenience in hunting, where fine-tooth combs are unknown, but could be put to good use.