any sort cheered their journey. On their forty-fifth day out they had crossed the third and broadest of the fiords, and their waning stock of provisions warned them to return. For many days fog and constant snow closed in their prospect, but from a mountain nearly four thousand feet high they got a view of Cape Britannia and the islands about it far to the north-east, nearly in north latitude 83°. The disorder which had weakened us, did not spare them. On their outward journey James Hand had been taken ill, and sent back with the supporting sledge. Poor fellow! he only lived to reach Polaris Bay. On the twelfth day of the homeward march a seaman named Paul fell helpless in the snow, and had to be carried on the sledge. Four days afterwards another took the place beside him. Soon every day added to the number of the sick, and when the party was yet forty miles from the depôt at Polaris Bay, but two, one of whom was the officer, were left to pull the others on, one by one. The advance of the season increased the misery of their position. Thawing snow fell constantly and soaked their clothes, a storm blew down their tent, and they could only spread the canvas over their sick sledge-mates and crouch under the edge, wet through and sleepless, for days at a time. At this stage, most opportune and unexpected relief reached them. The auxiliary and Petermann Fiord parties camped at Polaris Bay fortunately divined their condition, and two officers, with Hans the Eskimo, took a dog-sledge northward to meet them. With this aid the invalids were soon carried into camp, but help came too late for one of them; a few hours after reaching camp, Charles Paul was laid beside his messmate, not far from the grave of Captain Hall of the “Polaris.” The tents were pitched near a small wooden hut left by the Americans. Its roof had been disturbed by the wind, but the stores of ham, molasses, lime-juice, biscuit, and pemmican packed inside were serviceable, in spite of the five years they had lain there. A mattress found there made a luxurious bed for one of the invalids, and the members of the little colony made themselves as comfortable as circumstances would permit, while they waited for the sick to recover sufficiently to travel across to their ship, Hans meantime keeping them well supplied with seal meat. The dog-sledge carried news of their state across, and the assistance which arrived soon afterwards enabled a first detachment to leave on 29th July and reach the “Discovery” without difficulty. The party remaining behind consisted of Lieutenant Beaumont, Dr. Coppinger, and seven men. The invalids amongst them were rapidly gaining strength; another week, if the floes would only last so long, would leave them strong enough to attempt the march, and it was arranged that they would push across the pack on the 4th of August at the latest. This was the last that was known of the party.