It was now again time to fix upon winter quarters, and in an extensive opening of the American mainland, which they named Lyon’s Inlet, a suitable harbour was selected. The arrangements for the comfort and employment of the crews were much as before. The Sabbath was carefully observed, schools and harmless amusements provided, while the interests of science were not neglected. An observatory and house were erected for magnetic and astronomical observations. On February 1st a number of Esquimaux arrived, who had erected a temporary village some two miles from the ships. They, unlike some before seen in the vicinity of Hudson’s Strait, who had become debased and demoralised by their constant intercourse with whaling vessels, were of the unsophisticated order, and were quiet, peaceable, and, strange to say, reasonably clean. Some of the women, having handsome garments, which attracted the attention of those on board, began, to their astonishment and consternation, to divest themselves of some of their outer clothes, although the thermometer stood at the time at 20° below zero; but every individual among them having on a complete double suit of deer-skin, they did not apparently suffer much in consequence. Parry’s description of their little snow village is graphic and interesting. Not a single material was used in the construction of the huts but snow and ice. The inner apartments of each were circular, with arched domes about seven or eight feet high, and arched passage-ways leading into them. The interior of these presented a very uniform appearance. The women were seated on the beds at the side of the huts, each having her little fireplace, a blubber lamp, with all her domestic arrangements and domestic chattels, including all the children and some of the dogs, about her. When first erected these huts had a neat and even comfortable appearance. How differently did they look when the village was broken up at the end of winter. Parry thus describes them:—“On going out to the village we found one-half of the people had quitted their late habitations, taking with them every article of their property, and had gone over the ice, we knew not where, in quest of more abundant food. The wretched appearance which the interior of the huts now presented baffles all description. In each of the larger ones some of the apartments were either wholly or in part deserted, the very snow which composed the beds and fireplaces having been turned up, that no article might be left behind. Even the bare walls, whose original colour was scarcely perceptible for lamp-black, blood, and other filth, were not left perfect, large holes having been made in sides and roofs for the convenience of handing out the goods and chattels. The sight of a deserted habitation is at all times calculated to excite in the mind a sensation of dreariness and desolation, especially when we have lately seen it filled with cheerful inhabitants; but the feeling is even heightened rather than