Young had crossed Victoria Straits (now Franklin Straits), discovered M‘Clintock Channel, and proved Prince of Wales Land to be an island; having reached the point which Captain Sherard Osborn came to from the north. Owing to the very heavy character of the ice, he had failed in crossing M‘Clintock Channel, and returned to the ship on June 8, for a day or two’s rest. He had again started, on June 10, to recross Victoria Straits, and to complete the search to the northward upon Prince of Wales Land, and the unknown land of North Somerset, and was now absent; and although the ice was fast breaking up, and the floes already knee-deep with water, Captain M‘Clintock, notwithstanding his late severe journey, fearing that something might be wrong, most kindly started immediately, with only one man and a dog-sledge, to look for him. He found Young perched up out of the water upon the top of the islet, off Cape Bird, and they returned together to the ship on June 28. We were now all on board, and once more together. We were in fair health, although some of us were a little touched with scurvy. We passed our time in shooting, eating, and sleeping, and then eating again: our craving for fresh food, or, as the sailors call it, blood-meat, was excessive; seal and bear flesh, foxes, gulls, or ducks, went indiscriminately into the pot. We rejoiced whenever we got a fresh mess of any sort. The summer burst upon us; water was pouring down all the ravines, and flooding the ice in the harbour, and with extreme satisfaction we saw the snow houses and ice hummocks fast melting away in the now never-setting sun. A joyous feeling existed throughout the ship, for our work was done, and we had only to look forward to an early release, and a return to our families and homes. Over and over again we told our adventures, and we never tired of listening to the one all-absorbing, though melancholy subject, of the discovery of the fate of Sir John Franklin and his companions.