“I gathered up all the small articles lying around in the vicinity of the dead. I found the ice journal about three or four feet in the rear of De Long; that is, it looked as though he had been lying down, and with his left hand tossed the book over his shoulder to the rear, or to the eastward of him.” “Referring to the journal,” continues Melville, “I found that the whole of the people were now in the lee of the bank, in a distance of about five hundred yards. In the meantime, the native that had gone for Nindemann had brought him back.” “The three bodies were all frozen fast to the snow, so fast that it was necessary to pry them loose with a stick of timber. In turning over Dr. Ambler, I was surprised to find De Long’s pistol in his right hand, and then, observing the blood-stained mouth, beard, and snow, I at first thought that he had put a violent end to his misery. A careful examination, however, of the mouth and head revealed no wound, and, releasing the pistol from its tenacious death-grasp, I saw that only three of its chambers contained cartridges, which were _all loaded_, and then knew, of course, that he could not have harmed himself, else one or more of the capsules would be empty.... I believe him to have been the last of the unfortunate party to perish. When Ah Sam had been stretched out and his hands crossed upon his breast, De Long apparently crawled away and died. Then, solitary and famishing, in that desolate scene of death, Dr. Ambler seems to have taken the pistol from the corpse of De Long, doubtless in the hope that some bird or beast might come to prey upon the bodies and afford him food,—perhaps alone to protect his dead comrades from molestation,—in either case, or both, there he kept his lone watch to the last, on duty, on guard, under arms.” It now remained but to find the other bodies and bury the dead. In due time this was accomplished. Melville writes of the spot chosen as follows:— “The burial ground is on a bold promontory with a perpendicular face overlooking the frozen polar sea. The rocky head of the mountain, cold, austere as the Sphinx, frowns upon the spot where the party perished; and considering its weather-beaten and time-worn aspect, it is altogether fitting that here they should rest. I attained the crest of the promontory by making a detour of several miles to the southward of its majestic front, and then toiling slowly to the top. Here I laid out by compass a due north and south line, and one due east and west, and where they intersected, I planted the cross which marks the tomb of my comrades.” “There in sight of the spot where they fell, the scene of their suffering and heroic endeavor, where the everlasting snows would be their winding sheet and the fierce polar blasts which pierced their poor unclad bodies in life, would wail their wild dirge through all time,—there we buried them, and surely heroes never found a fitter resting place.”