Reduced in numbers, many of them helpless, the waning efficiency of all, combined with the impending winter darkness and the scant supply of fuel and stores, tended sadly to depress the isolated group of despairing men. But their intrepid commander, realizing the necessity of immediate action, put all hands, sick and well, to work according to their strength, in preparation for the approaching of winter. [Sidenote: _SECOND WINTER IN THE ICE_] Dr. Kane had made a careful study of the Eskimos, and had come to the wise conclusion that their form of habitations and their peculiar diet, minus their unthrift and filth, was the safest and best method of existence under the unusual circumstances of an Arctic winter. He therefore determined to borrow a lesson from the natives and, as far as possible, turn the brig into an _igloë_. The quarter-deck was padded down with moss and turf, so as to form a nearly cold-proof covering. Below a space some eighteen feet square was packed from floor to ceiling with inner walls of the same material. The floor was carefully calked with plaster-of-Paris and common paste, covered a couple of inches deep with Manila oakum, and carpeted with canvas. A low moss-lined tunnel was arranged to connect with the hold, and divided with as many doors and curtains as possible to keep out the cold draughts. Large banks of snow were also thrown up along the brig’s sides to keep off the cold wind. These arduous labours in the open air greatly improved the health and spirits of the men. Intercourse with the Eskimos at the winter settlements of Etah and Anoatok, distant some thirty and seventy miles, led to a treaty by which the Eskimos, for such presents as needles, pins, and knives, engaged to furnish walrus and fresh seal meat, to the ship. Common hunting parties were organized, and the white men were directed by the natives where to find the game. To these supplies of fresh meat, Kane and his companions owed their salvation, and the Eskimos on their part learned to regard the white men as their benefactors, and sincerely mourned their departure. [Sidenote: _PRIVATIONS AND SUFFERINGS_] Before the darkness came on, Dr. Kane again nearly lost his life in an attempt to secure a seal—while out in the ice, Hans had just cried out, “_Pusey! pusey mut!_ seal! seal!” “At the same instant,” writes Dr. Kane, “the dogs bounded forward, and, as I looked up, I saw crowds of gray netsik, the rough or hispid seal of the whalers disporting in an open sea of water.”