The very thought that this magical, fast-speeding little boat might become the property of the tribe excited the occupants of all the umiaks. Boat races, it appeared, were the only sport in Arctic waters, and if this tribe had such a boat as that they could be the champions of the Arctic seas. There was no further hesitation, and with eagerness the whole party hastened to where the camp had been pitched, the smoke leading the way without much difficulty. On the way they learned that Nigaluk was further west, on an arm of the delta which branched off quite a distance higher up the river, and that the settlement they had found was a comparatively new place, as yet uncharted. Bad weather came, and several days were lost by storms, so that the trip, even in the Eskimo umiaks and under the conditions the natives knew so well how to overcome, was by no means easy, and Roger shivered at the thought of the terrible experience he would have had to face, if they had not overtaken the Eskimo boats. The canoe, which was being towed behind the largest umiak, was almost a fetish for the natives, and the way it rose to every wave, never shipping even a drop of water, to them was a constant source of delight. They jabbered the whole trip through of their sure success in the races of next season. Camping along the shore was difficult, as no wood except a few occasional sticks of driftwood was procurable, and the water, while plentiful, was uniformly brackish. But trouble was not to let them go so easily. A steady and heavy gale set in from the northeast and the ice-pack began to drive. Then the Eskimos gave a taste of their staying qualities. For fifty-four consecutive hours their paddles never ceased a second, one man in each boat eating and resting while the others paddled. The Survey men took their turn at the labor, and trained to endurance as they were, they competed well with the untiring swing of the Eskimo paddle, and gained the admiration of the natives. For the last four hours it was a flight for life that kept every nerve alert and tense, and the ice-pack was not fifty yards from shore when the boats, paddling furiously, rounded Point Barrow. Half of them ran into the little Eskimo village of Nuwuk, just at the extremity of the point, but the others took the Survey party to the main settlement, where a store, a mission church, and a post-office bespeak the habits of the white man. With steam up and all ready to start, lay with her anchor on a spring the little revenue cutter, fearing the ice, now only stayed from further advance by the projection of Point Barrow, the easterly bent of the wind having so far left open water. The steamer's boat was waiting as the umiaks ran in, for they had been sighted some hours before. The few necessaries of the party, the maps and records were trans-shipped without delay, the natives duly paid and rewarded, mail secured, and in less than ten minutes from touching the shore the men were on board the cutter.