We found the coal mine without difficulty, the seams of coal cropping out of the cliffs under which we anchored. It was a very exposed position, and the ground hard; the only safe way to lie would be by making fast to a piece of grounded ice, if one can be found, as anchors will not hold. In the early spring the ice-foot forms a natural wharf, and the coals may be collected, and at high water the boats can go alongside to receive the sacks. Now that steam has been introduced into the whale fishery, these coal mines must sooner or later become much frequented, and it is to be hoped that so valuable a resource will be taken advantage of. If moorings could be laid down, and natives from the opposite settlement of Atenadluk employed to collect coals in readiness for embarkation, a ship might readily fill up in a few hours. We had scarcely completed our coaling, when the weather began to threaten, the barometer fell, and shortly after noon it blew almost a gale from the southward. Our anchors soon began to jump over the ground, and the drift ice to set in. Steam was immediately got ready, and we ran through the straits to the north-westward. Passing the magnificent headland of Swarten Huk, we touched at the settlement of Proven to purchase dogs and seal-beef, and then bore away for Upernavik, steering close along the coast, and intending to attack the breeding-place of looms, at Saunderson’s Hope; but a strong south-west wind and high sea prevented our sending in the boats. Arrived off Upernavik, we obtained more dogs, and having left our last letters for home, we bore away, on the afternoon of August 6, to try to cross Baffin’s Bay. We were now fairly away from the civilized world, and all that we could look forward to, or hope for, was a speedy passage through the middle pack of Baffin’s Bay, a satisfactory finish of the work before us on the other side, and a return the following year to England. We had a fine ship and a fine crew, all eager to commence the more active duties of sledge travelling; and, indeed, on looking at our thirty large and ravenous dogs that crowded our decks, we could not but think that our sledge parties would solve, in the following spring, the extraordinary mystery of Franklin’s fate. How these hopes were to be disappointed that year the sequel will show. It is well for us that we cannot know what the morrow may bring forth. During August 7 and 8, we steered out due west from Upernavik to try to cross in that parallel of latitude; but on the evening of the latter day, the keenness of the air, the ice-blink ahead, and the fast increasing number of bergs, prepared us for seeing the Middle Pack. In the evening and during that night we passed streams of loose sailing ice, and on the morning of the 8th further progress was stopped by impenetrable floes. This was in lat. 72° 40′ north, long. 59° 50′ west.