purposes, as the well water is disagreeably brackish. The same trouble is found at St. Michael's, where the only good water is obtained from springs on the mainland, near the shore opposite the island. There are many of these springs near the shore along the coast, and they are unfrozen all winter, the water having a temperature of 28° to 30° Fahrenheit, even when the air is several degrees below zero. Whether this is due to any latent volcanic heat cannot yet be decided, but the islands of Stuart and St. Michael, as well as the coast as far north as Tolstoi Point, are composed of basaltic lava, full of amygdaloidal cavities and crystals of olivine, and, in many places, roughly columnar in five-sided pillars.

Sunday, 4th. In the morning a strong northeast wind was blowing, with the thermometer about 16°, and a great deal of loose snow driving about. I determined, in spite of the remonstrances of the others, to delay no longer, and, putting some biscuit and ukali in my pocket, I started alone, about eleven o'clock, for Iktígalik. The wind sweeping over the broad plains near the mouth of the river was so violent, and the sleet was so blinding, that I was unable to face it, and was obliged to go from side to side of the river diagonally. In doing this I was misled by a branch of the river, and proceeded several miles before I found out my mistake. Retracing my steps, I took the right direction, and reached the wooded part of the river, where the trees made a shelter from the force of the wind and driving snow, late in the afternoon. I found the ice rather soft and covered in many places with drifted snow, so that the travelling was very laborious. To add to my annoyances, it soon became very dark, and I had to grope my way over ice-hummocks and through snow-drifts until nearly worn out by the exertion. Passing round a bend in the river, the ice gave way under me, and I had only time to throw myself on one side, where it proved more solid, and I got off with a wetting up to my knees. Taking off my boots and socks, I wrung out the water and put them on again, when they froze immediately. Nothing but the want of an axe prevented my camping then and there; but a howling, which came evidently from no great distance, reminded me that it might not prove healthy to sleep without a fire. I trudged along, and, to my great delight, about eight o'clock, the moon rose, and I soon saw the

high caches of the village standing out against the sky. I heard no dogs, however, and on reaching the entrance of the house on the bank I found it closed with a block of wood. Climbing on to the roof and looking through the gut cover, I thought I saw a glimmer as of live coals where the fire had been. My shouts finally aroused Ingechuk, who was the only occupant. Ketchum had evidently gone, and I had my labor for my pains! Between the small stock of Russian which I had picked up, and the little Ingechuk knew, I finally managed to make out that they had left that day and gone to Ulúkuk. I made him boil the chynik, and changed my wet clothes, which were frozen so hard. as to be difficult to get off; and then, after taking my tea, retired with a feeling that I had earned a good night's sleep.

Monday, 5th. Not wishing to take another useless tramp, I prevailed on Ingechuk to take a note to Ketchum, if he was at Ulúkuk and if he wished me to join him; and feeling rather stiff, I remained in the house, writing and resting most of the day. About the middle of the afternoon, Francis arrived. He had met an Indian with a note from Ketchum, on the river, and knew that he was gone, but had kept on to Iktígalik. Soon after, Ingechuk returned with a note from Ketchum, who was on the point of starting for Nuláto, and advised us to return to Unalaklík and come up with the next brigade of sleds.

Tuesday, 6th.-Breakfasted on some fine salmon trout (kokolimya of the Indians, and kolsheh of the Russians) which Ketchum had sent down to us. These fish, when broiled in their skins on a stick over the fire, are exceedingly fine eating, but if fried or cleaned before cooking lose much of their flavor.

Leaving some of our things with Ingechuk, to follow us the next day, we started for Unalaklík about eleven, and reached it about five o'clock in the afternoon; our return created some amusement. The ice being very glairy made the travelling very disagreeable, and we were well satisfied when we came to our journey's end.

Adams, one of the original party, now justly known as the pioneers, had left for the Redoubt in a bidarrá, but had not returned; some fears were excited that he might not be able to do so until the sea ice had fully formed. from 15° to 20°.

Temperature varied

For several days we remained in statu quo. Our time was taken up in increasing our knowledge of Russian and the Máhlemut dialect, in preparations for another attempt to cross. the portage, and in reading a variety of matter provided by the kindness of some of the officers who did not remain in the country. Several evenings were pleasantly diversified by an amateur theatrical performance, aided by several violins. Many capital personal hits were made, which, being taken in good part by the victims, were productive of a great deal of merriment.

Monday, 12th. - Started for Iktígalik about ten o'clock, with two Máhlemuts, Shurúgeluk and Ichiluk by name, commonly known as Shuggy and New-Years, the latter having been hired the previous year by Mr. Kennicott on New-Year's day. We had two heavily loaded sleds of Máhlemut make, drawn by five and four dogs respectively, dogs being scarce. The party consisted, besides the two Eskimo above referred to, of Messrs. Dyer and Francis, and myself, — Mr. Francis and I, not wishing to be idle, having volunteered to assist in transporting the Nuláto goods to Ulúkuk. By making several short portages, the distance was materially reduced, and we arrived in good condition at Iktígalik about two o'clock in the afternoon.

Tuesday, 13th. After breakfast, loaded up one Máhlemut and one light Ingalik sled and started at half past ten for Ulúkuk, which is about eleven miles from Iktígalik by several portages and the river. About half-way on a bend of the river were two roofless deserted houses, once a summer fishing village, called by the Indians N' tsoh. Unromantic as it may appear, the sight of these poor ruins, indicating probably a death in the midst of the primeval woods, could hardly fail to produce a touch of emotion. in any mind less occupied than that of the hardy and careless voyageur. They formed a rude, half-effaced, but effective monument of human sorrow, in a country where humanity seems hardly to have taken root, existing as it does, only by a constant struggle for the necessities of life.

Pursuing our way up steep banks and down sharp declivities requiring the greatest care in the management of dogs and sleds, over the ice-bound river and the rolling plains, dotted with clumps. of larch and willow, we finally struck the river at a sharp bend, just below the point where the village of Ulúkuk is situated.

Here a large number of springs exist, some of them below the bed of the river, whose waters are never frozen, an open patch being found here during the most severe winters. The water in these springs, measured by a standard thermometer of Greene's make, was not very warm, but retained a temperature of thirtytwo to thirty-four degrees Fahrenheit during extremely cold weather. I counted seven springs in the gravel beach near the village, all without any ice about them; most of them continue open during the entire year, but are covered by the river during the spring freshets.

The village contains five winter houses, a small casine, and a row of high caches. It is situated on the right bank of the river, which is here about two hundred feet wide; about four miles to the eastward the Ulúkuk Hills rise to a height of about two thousand feet. At this time they were snow covered of course, but they are free from snow during the summer.

The open water in the river makes it somewhat difficult to approach the village with sleds from below, the banks, though low, being steep and covered with small trees. Snow or ice, placed upon the smooth pebbles from beneath which the springs were flowing, soon melted, though the weather was at zero. With the atmosphere at eight below zero, the temperature of one spring, which gave out beautifully clear water with a slight saline taste like bicarbonate of soda, was thirty-two degrees; another, quite tasteless, was thirty-four degrees Fahrenheit.

The water in the river, at the edge of the ice, which was about eighteen inches thick, had a temperature of thirty-one degrees. A remarkable abundance of fish frequents the vicinity of this patch of open water, especially the delicious salmon trout for which Ulúkuk is noted, and a small cyprinoid fish not elsewhere observed.

Amílka has a house in this village also, and into it we took our baggage and rested; an old Indian called Sammák roasted some trout for our evening meal, while with some fresh alêné meat and backfat Dyer concocted one of those appetizing telegraph stews previously mentioned.

Wednesday, 14th. - Francis and our two Eskimo started off with three sleds to bring loads from Iktígalik. Several sick Indians came to me for treatment, their own medical knowledge being confined to steam-baths and to counter-irritants in the form of

bleeding by means of a large number of small cuts and the actual cautery. They have no knowledge of the uses of the indigenous herbs of the country or of any medicines.

I purchased a fine pair of snow-shoes about five feet long for a sheath-knife, and Dyer obtained a large number of the river trout from the Indians. I cannot understand why Kane and other Arctic travellers could not preserve fresh provisions in a frozen state, for winter use. In this country immense quantities of meat and fish are so preserved without taint all the year round. Excavations are made in the earth to the depth of two or three feet, where it is usually frozen, and the contents are thus protected from the rays of the sun.

Towards evening Francis and the sleds returned with heavy loads of goods from the other village.

Thursday, 15th. It being my turn to take charge of the brigade, I started with the dogs and men about half past ten, with empty sleds. Reached Iktígalik about two o'clock, and by means of a little diplomacy induced Ingechuk and Amílka to lend me their dogs, and also got hold of another sled.

Friday, 16th. Rose early, and after chy peet, as the Russians call a meal of bread and tea, harnessed up the dogs, and, taking all the remaining goods, except some dog feed, started about half past eight and arrived at Ulúkuk about noon. Cached the goods and repaired sleds and harness.

News arrived from Ketchum in the afternoon, by an Indian who brought a sled and a worn-out dog from a point called Vesólia Sópka, or Cheerful Mountain. He said that Ketchum had passed that point with three sleds en route for Nuláto, but that the roads were very bad, the snow being deep and soft. One of our party had been trading with Lófka, who, having an ear for music, bought an accordeon, giving in exchange two dogs, one of which was supposed to be running wild in the woods. Lófka knew nothing of the use of the instrument, and it was a moot question which had the best of the bargain. The instrument having been used to play "Tramp, tramp, the boys are marching" for some four months, about twenty-four times a day, was, to say the least, not in a condition to be much injured by Indian fingering.

After waiting a day for the return of the Nuláto brigade which was due, Dyer returned to Unalaklík, leaving Francis and myself