Melville Bay, with all its terrors, was behind us; a beautifully smooth unruffled sea, devoid of all ice, was in front; everything pointed to success, and the hearts of all in the expedition beat high with joy and delight at the speedy prospect of attaining the utmost realization of their hopes. Large icebergs were around us in every direction; but what cared we then for icebergs? We had continuous day; the North Water had been reached; our way lay northwards. In a few short days the entrance of Smith Sound would be reached, the threshold of the unknown region crossed, and then onwards to--where? We did not dare to anticipate, but we felt that the first step towards success had been gained, and that we had commenced our real work under most propitious circumstances. We would not predict, but we determined to deserve, success. It was, for many reasons, a matter of congratulation that this "North Water" had been so speedily and so successfully reached. Instead of only two or three weeks of the navigable season being available for us to penetrate the hidden mysteries of Smith Sound, owing to our rapid passage, we could reckon upon a clear month or five weeks before being compelled to secure our ship in winter quarters; besides which, our fuel had been very materially saved by this quick run, and this in itself, to ships situated as we were, was no unimportant matter. On reaching the neighbourhood of Cape York, the "Discovery" was ordered to proceed shorewards for the purpose of communicating with the natives (the Arctic Highlanders of Sir John Ross), in the hope of inducing one of their number, a brother-in-law of Hans, to accompany the expedition; the "Alert" in the mean time shaping a course to the Cary Islands, at which latter place the "Discovery" was ordered to rejoin us. The scenery, as we steamed along at a distance of about two miles from the shore, was most interesting. The hills along the coast were entirely clad with snow, whilst the long undulating ranges, as they receded far back to the horizon, appeared to be buried under the everlasting _mer de glace_. Numerous glaciers of various sizes, some of them being discharging ones, rolled down to the water's edge in one vast icy sheet. The width of one of these, the Petowik Glacier, is fully seven miles. Fragments from these lay scattered along the coast in every direction, whilst we had to thread our way through clusters of huge bergs of every form and size. Passing the crimson cliffs of Beverley, we were able to distinguish, in a few small patches, the so-called coloured snow whence the name originates; but not in the highly imaginative mass of bright colour depicted by Sir John Ross, in his interesting illustrated work describing his voyage to Baffin Bay. The question of the nature of this colouring matter on snow has now been definitely set at rest. It is an alga, the _Protococcus nivalis_.