makes insolent remarks almost in his ear, and the bear dashes round to retaliate. At the same moment two shots ring out, and poor Mr. Bear rolls over dead.

One of us then returns to the hut to bring out a sledge party to haul him in. We drag him into a canvas hut, reserved for bearskinning during the darkness, and remove his skin, and cut up the carcass into convenient joints. The dense atmosphere caused by the rising steam in the intensely cold air suggests a laundry in full swing.

As the end of the dark time approaches all becomes hurry and bustle in our little community. The hut becomes crowded up with sledges brought into it to be packed, and piles of equipment and rations in the course of being weighed out fill every available foot of space. Across the

room a canvas

and bamboo canoe is hung up to dry after being tarred-and many are the jokes and much the laughter when one of our heads comes in contact with its very sticky sides. The actual living space in our hut was about thirteen feet by twelve.

We have been working all through the winter at these sledging preparations, upon the careful completion of which so much depends. Weight and bulk are of the greatest consideration, and it is wonderful how weights accumulate by ounces, so that the utmost care must be exercised to select only the most necessary and in dispensable articles, and to have the food rationed out in the smallest amounts per day compatible with keeping men in health.

An amusing tale is told of a very dis

results can be attained-which the gentleman in question was one of the first to demonstrate.

Early in March sees us on our journey with our team of dogs and pony, and one man besides myself.

The temperature is about 35° below zero, the sky is misty and overcast, a stiff breeze is blowing which carries before it a cloud of snow as fine as flour, which penetrates everything. In the distance on our left the cold, white, ill-defined outlines of the glaciated country on the western side of the British Channel are dimly visible.

66

I lead the way with 'Brownie" (our pony) and her sledges, and Mr. Armitage follows in my tracks with the dog team.

The surface is much hummocked in

BRINGING BACK THE BEAR.

consequence of the repeated breaking up of the light ice of the channel in the autumn before; and the snow lies deep and soft over the trappy holes and crevices it has caused.

The pony has been going badly, owing to illness caused by a surfeit of dried vegetables, and it is with great difficulty that she can be induced to move along at all. At every slight rise or ridge of hummocks she comes to a full stop, and even on the flat a very slow walk is her best pace. Finally she throws herself down in the snow, declaring as plainly as she can speak, poor animal, that she cannot go a yard farther. The dogs too move along with their tails between their legs, wearing a dejected expression on their faces. Every now and then Armitage has to take advantage of the frequent stops to unravel the marvellous tangle into which they have contrived to get their traces, which, being frozen as hard as steel rods, is neither an easy nor a pleasant occupation in this charming weather. Poor Joey," who has been going in a very tottering condition most of the day, at last falls down, and is released from his trace, and for a short distance tries to follow us. He drops behind, however, and to get him along at all he has to be carried on the sledge. Poor little plucky

fellow, he will not last much longer, and others are going in his direction also. The horrible weather incessant gales, with temperatures as low as 40° below zero, and blinding blizzards-is rapidly telling upon all of them. It is sorry work getting along the exhausted creatures; but there is no help for it. We have now been marching for nearly twen

ty hours, with only two stops of an hour to make a pot of tea, and to eat some biscuits, cheese, and fat bacon. I intend to go for another four hours yet; there is every prospect of having to camp for the next three days, for the weather grows

worse.

Armitage and I are beginning to feel a little tired too, and several times when the dogs have checked at a hummock we have lain down in the snow, and all but fallen asleep. However, it is of no use lying there, so on we push again; but the labor of hauling the sledges out of drifts, starting the team again, and urging on the animals, combined with the wind and cold, will insure our sleeping soundly-when the time comes that we

The wind has now grown into a fresh gale, but the temperature has risen with it, and the snow and mist have so increased that as we plod along we can hardly see

The tent is then pitched-no easy matter for two men in a blizzard-the dogs and pony fed, and we proceed to make

the ice precipices of the glacier face sixty yards away; I can barely distinguish Armitage a dozen yards behind, occasionally lose sight of him entirely, and have to stop for him to come up or I should lose him.

To prevent constant frost-bites we have our wind-guards over our faces, leaving only apertures for the eyes and the mouth. They give us very much the appearance of Spanish inquisitors.

On we tramp, until, rounding a sudden turn in the glacier, we suddenly find ourselves nearly out of the wind, but in a perfect whirl of fine blinding snow and darkness-in fact, in a kind of backwater of the storm.

To continue our march farther at present has become out of the question, so I decide to camp, and after searching

ourselves as comfortable as circumstances will allow.

Our socks and the grass in our boots, made wet with condensed perspiration, are changed for others, and the moist ones placed on our chests to dry, which is the only means possible, as, of course, we have no fire; then, having put on our furs, and cooked our dinner over a spiritlamp, we lie down to sleep. We have hardly done so when an ominous roar close at hand, followed by two more, rouses us up, and we crane our necks out of the tent to endeavor to ascertain the cause. Is the glacier discharging bergs close at hand? It sounds like it. If so, our position close to it, to say the least, is not a pleasant one! However, we can see nothing through the blinding snow, so we lie down again and decide to chance

it.

self, and our quarters were not the acme of comfort as it was. After three hours' digging we got the sledges out and under way. Armitage and I both got our noses and cheeks frozen in the process, and I both my wrists, upon which appeared large blisters in the course of a few hours, which later became tiresome sores.

After getting clear of the glacier face, and proceeding about a mile, we found a spot on the lee side of some hummocks, where we were partly protected from the gale, and there pitched our camp.

The weather throughout our first spring journey in 1897 was severe in the extreme. During the two months we were away we only enjoyed thirteen and a half tolerably fine days-high gales, driving snow, thick mist, and often very low temperatures comprised the fare provided for us. On the 28th of March, at our camp near the entrance of Crichton Somerville Bay, we were kept in our tent by a severe gale. I examined the dogs soon after we turned out of our furs, and found them buried in the snow, but apparently all well. Three hours afterwards I found one dog frozen to death, and its body as hard as a rock; another dog was frozen fast in the ice, and we had to hack it out with a small pick to get it free. The following day another of our

VOL. XCVII.-No. 580.-67

dogs broke down, and we carried him on our sledge in the endeavor to keep him alive; but the poor little beast, faithful and plucky to the last, gradually froze to death. Two or three days later two more dogs ended their days. We wrapped them up in skins when we camped, and I gave them a nip of whiskey each in the hope of reviving them, but to no avail.

It was a sad time for us thus to see our animals die one after the other, to say nothing of the loss of draught-power, which rendered progress at all very difficult. At that time, too, we could not even guess at the length of the journey in front of us. We had set out to go round the western land, and meant to accomplish it.

The fluctuations in temperature, too, were very trying. Frequently with the onset of a southeast gale it rose from 40° below zero to 28° above within thirtysix hours-altering our garments, which had previously been frozen as hard as sheets of galvanized iron, so that it took us hours to get into them, to a state of noisome moistness, and everything inside the tent would be in a condition of drip. Down again would go the temperature, and the rockiness of our clothes and equipment would be increased. This addition of moisture and ice in our clothes,