The arrival and visit of a number of Esquimaux at the brig caused some little excitement. They were fine specimens of the race, and evidently inclined for friendship. At first only one of them was admitted on board. His dress is described as a kind of hooded capôte or jumper of mixed blue and white fox-skins arranged with some taste, and booted trousers of white bear-skin, which at the end of the foot were made to terminate with the claws of the animal. Kane soon came to an understanding with this individual, and the rest were admitted to the brig, where they were hospitably treated. When offered, however, good fresh wheaten bread and corned pork, and large lumps of white sugar, they could not be induced to touch them, but much preferred gorging on walrus meat. They were greatly amazed at the coal on board—too hard for blubber, and so unlike wood. They were allowed to sleep in the hold. Next morning a treaty was made whereby they pledged themselves, before departing, to return in a few days with more meat, and to allow Kane to use their dogs and sledges in the proposed excursions. Kane with a party attempted in the spring of 1854 a journey to the great glacier of Humboldt, from which point he had hoped “to cross the ice to the American side.” They had made some progress when the winter’s scurvy reappeared painfully among the party. The now soft snow made travelling very difficult for both men and dogs; indeed, the former sank to their waists, and the latter were nearly buried. Three of the men were taken with snow blindness; one was utterly, and another partially disabled. Kane was, while taking an observation for latitude, seized with a sudden pain, and fainted. His limbs became rigid, and he had to be strapped on the sledge. On May 5th he became delirious, and fainted every time he was taken from the tent to the sledge. The last man to give in, he owns that on this occasion he succumbed entirely, and that to five brave men—Morton, Riley, Hickey, Stephenson, and Hans—themselves scarcely able to travel, he owed his preservation. They carried him back to the brig by forced marches, and he long lay there in a very critical state. A few days after the return of the party, Schubert, one of the merriest and best liked of the little band, died. Dr. Hayes, the surgeon of the ship, worked zealously in the discharge of his duties, and with the better diet obtained in the summer—fresh seal-meat, reindeer, ptarmigan, and rabbits—the invalids gradually recovered strength, and set about their duties.