Parry had twice attempted the middle pack. The first time he was successful, but the second time he suffered long detention. It is better to stick to the land floe in Melville Bay and run no risks. Forty days of hard work, towing, tracking, blasting, and cutting docks amidst the fairy scenery of refracted icebergs saw our squadron through the ice and off Cape York, in company with Penny’s brigs, the _Felix_ and the _Prince Albert_. We gazed on “the crimson cliffs of Beverley,” which were a very pale, scarcely perceptible pink, but dear old Sir John Ross, who was visiting us, staunchly defended the brilliant crimson as correctly depicting, in his book, the colour the snow had in 1818. Here too we were visited by a party of Sir John’s “Arctic Highlanders,” and one of them, a lad of about eighteen named Kalahierua, who also received the names of Erasmus after Captain Ommanney and York after the cape, accepted an invitation to cast in his lot with us, and came on board. Like the Eskimo of Igloolik who drew the Melville Peninsula with such accuracy for Parry, our friend Kalahierua had a wonderful eye for topography. When asked to draw a map of his country he took the pencil and delineated the coast-line with marvellous accuracy, making marks to indicate islands and bird-frequented cliffs, leaving a space where glaciers reach the sea, and marking the places where his people had winter stations, mentioning the names. The northern part of the map was then unknown, but it was afterwards proved to be quite correct. The _Resolute_ and _Pioneer_ went to Pond’s Bay for news, while the _Assistance_ and _Intrepid_ proceeded direct to Lancaster Sound, discovering a fine harbour near Cape Warrender, with some interesting Eskimo remains.