The Yule-tide festivities over, they made ready the equipments for their sledging expeditions in the ensuing spring,--the object of the most important of these being to attain the highest possible degree of north latitude. In February the sun returned, and with it the bears; and the daily excursions upon the island, undertaken by the scientific members of the expedition, were rendered dangerous by their audacity. Every one was required to go armed, yet some accidents occurred. One of the “scientists” was severely wounded in the head, and dragged upwards of four hundred paces before his comrades rescued him from the bear. After the lapse of a few weeks, however, he recovered from his wounds. On the 24th of March, the first sledge-party left the ship, and travelled northward until, on the 15th of April, they reached 77° 1’ N. lat. Then the wild northerly gales compelled them to retrace their steps. On their return they were fortunate enough to shoot some bears, whose blubber supplied them with fuel to warm their food; and the wind filling the sails which they had hoisted on their sledges, they progressed with such rapidity as to reach the ship on the 27th of April. At the northernmost point attained by this party,--lat. 77° 1’,--the belt of land-ice which skirted the shore seemed to the travellers to be four miles in width and several years old. They speak of it as a “bulwark built for eternity.” Out to seaward, the ice, which was very hummocky, stretched in an unbroken expanse. [Illustration: “INTO A WATER-GAP.”] Two other sledge-parties were sent out early in May: one of these was employed in making geographical and scientific explorations of the neighbouring coast of Greenland; the other in attempting the measurement of an arc of the meridian. Their journeys were difficult enough and troublesome enough, and made large demands on the energies of those who undertook them. Crossing hummocks and rugged ice was weary work, and sometimes the whole party plunged into deep drifts of snow. On one occasion, the sledge was precipitated into a water-gap, or crevasse; and before it could be recovered and hauled up on the ice-floe, they were compelled to unload it, and remove each article, one by one. Then again they would have to make their way through a storm of pitiless violence; the north wind driving the frozen snow into their faces with a fury that almost blinded them. Up to their knees in the new snow, they pressed forward with a dogged intrepidity; enduring hardships and triumphing over obstacles of which the “mob of gentlemen who stay at home at ease” can form no adequate conception. The bears now increased in numbers and in boldness, as if they had determined to besiege the small company now left on board the ship. The greatest caution was necessary to prevent accidents; and though several were shot, their death did not appear to terrify the survivors.