In our return to Igloolik we encountered a severe gale, but we luckily discovered it at half past ten A.M., though such was the difficulty of distinguishing this from Neerlo-nakto, or either from the mainland, on account of the snow that covered them, that, had it not been for the Esquimaux huts, we should not easily have recognised the place. At noon on the 24th we arrived off the point where the tents had first been pitched, and were immediately greeted by a number of Esquimaux, who came running down to the beach, shouting and jumping with all their might. As soon as we had anchored I went on shore, accompanied by several of the officers, to pay the Esquimaux a visit, a crowd of them meeting us, as usual, on the beach, and greeting us with every demonstration of joy. They seemed disappointed that we had not reached Akkolee, for they always receive with eagerness any intelligence of their distant country people. Many of them, and Toolemak among the number, frequently repeated the expressions "_Owyak Na-o_!" (no summer), "_Took-too Na-o!_" (no reindeer), which we considered at the time as some confirmation of our own surmises respecting the badness of the past summer. When we told them we were come to winter among them, they expressed very great, and, doubtless, very sincere delight, and even a few _koyennas_ (thanks) escaped them on the first communication of this piece of intelligence. We found these people already established in their winter residences, which consisted principally of the huts before described, but modified in various ways both as to form and materials. The roofs, which were wholly wanting in the summer, were now formed by skins stretched tight across from side to side. This, however, as we soon afterward found, was only a preparation for the final winter covering of snow; and, indeed, many of the huts were subsequently lined in the same way within, the skins being attached to the sides and roof by slender threads of whalebone, disposed in large and regular stitches. Before the passages already described, others were now added, from ten to fifteen feet in length, and from four to five feet high, neatly constructed of large flat slabs of ice, cemented together by snow and water. Some huts also were entirely built of this material, of a rude circular or octangular form, and roofed with skins like the others. The light and transparent effect within these singular habitations gave one the idea of being in a house of ground glass, and their newness made them look clean, comfortable, and wholesome. Not so the more substantial bone huts, which, from their extreme closeness and accumulated filth, emitted an almost insupportable stench, to which an abundant supply of raw and half-putrid walrus' flesh in no small degree contributed. The passages to these are so low as to make it necessary to crawl on the hands and knees to enter them; and the floors of the apartments were in some