After overtaking Captain Penny, Osborn learned of the former’s discoveries on Beechey Island, the first wintering place of Sir John Franklin, and on August 29th paid a visit to the spot. “It needed not,” says he, “a dark wintry sky or a gloomy day to throw a sombre shade around my feelings as I landed on Beechey Island and looked down upon the bay on whose bosom had ridden Her Majesty’s ships _Erebus_ and _Terror_. There was a sickening anxiety of the heart as one involuntarily clutched at every relic which they of Franklin’s squadron had left behind, in the vain hope that some clue as to the route they had taken hence might be found.” The hope was vain: no document of any kind was discovered, although a carefully constructed cairn, formed of meat-tins filled with gravel, was found and carefully searched. There was the embankment of a house, with a carpenter’s and armourer’s workshops, coal-bags, tubs, pieces of old clothing, rope, cinders, chips, &c.; the remnants of a garden, probably made in joke, but with neat borders of moss and lichens, and even poppies and anemones transplanted from some more genial part of the island. The graves of three of the crews of the _Erebus_ and _Terror_, bearing the dates of 1845 and 1846, proved conclusively that the expedition had wintered there. Osborn’s description of an Arctic dinner is interesting. “‘The pemmican is all ready, sir,’ reports our Soyer. In troth, appetite need wait on one, for the greasy compound would pall on moderate taste or hunger. Tradition said that it was composed of the best rump-steaks and suet, and cost 1s. 6d. per pound. To our then untutored tastes it seemed composed of broken-down horses and Russian tallow. If not sweet in savour, it was strong in nourishment, and after six table-spoonfuls we cried, ‘Hold! enough!’ But there came a day when we sat hungry and lean, longing for this coarse mess, and eating a pound of it with avidity, and declaring it to be delicious!” Frozen cold pork was found delicious with biscuit and a steaming cup of tea. During the long winter, fancying it possible they were in the neighbourhood of Franklin’s party, rockets were fired and small balloons sent off. The latter carried slow matches five feet long, which, as they burned, let loose pieces of coloured paper, on which were printed their position and other information. A carrier pigeon, despatched on one occasion by Sir John Ross from his quarters in the Arctic in 1850, reached its old home in Ayr, Scotland, in five days, having flown 3,000 miles! Numerous sledging parties were despatched from the various ships above-named, but without obtaining any further information regarding Franklin.