The forced march of Nindemann and Noros is one of the most remarkable tests of human suffering and endurance in the annals of Arctic history. It is a record of travelling across the wilderness without food except as they brought down an occasional ptarmigan and lemming; sighting with the eyes of starving men a herd of deer which fled before they could approach sufficiently near to fire at them; struggling through wretched days to crawl into a snow hole at night, where they lay the night through wet to the waist, alternately sleeping for five-minute intervals, one man rousing the other that he might knock his feet together to keep them from freezing and taking up the march upon the strength of an infusion of Arctic willow tea and boot-sole. Crossing a couple of streams they sought shelter from a raging gale in a wretched hut where a refuse pile of deer bones were burned and eaten. Near another hut was found a little rotten fish—this eked out with strips cut from seal-skin clothing was all that stayed the pangs of hunger as they marched on. The 16th of October found their strength fast waning. Noros was complaining of illness and spitting blood. Two days later they reached a place set down on later maps as Bulcour; it consisted of three deserted huts. “Near by was a half kayak with something in it. Noros tasted it. It was blue moulded and tasteless to them, but it was fish, and they took it with them to the other huts. They found nothing more, and after gathering some drift-wood they made a fire and tried to find some food in the mouldy fish.” On Friday, October 21, they were too weak to push on, but spent the day in careful husbanding of their resources. Measuring their fish, they found that by taking each two tin cupfuls a day they had enough for ten days. Sewing up the fish in their foot-nips and skull caps, they arranged straps to these bundles for carrying. The next day, while still too weak to proceed, they heard a noise outside the hut, like a flock of geese sweeping by, and Nindemann, seizing his gun looked through the crack of the door. Seeing something moving which he thought were reindeer, Nindemann advanced, when the door suddenly opened and a man stood on the threshold. Seeing the rifle, the man fell upon his knees, but when Nindemann reassured him by throwing the weapon to one side, friendly communication was established between the stranger and the forlorn men. Sympathizing with their desperate plight, he let them know by signs that he would return in three or four hours, or days, they could not tell which.