, mysterious guardian of this mist-covered region
foiling us? The Commander is taking it with a great deal more patience
than he usually has with obstacles, but in the face of this one he
probably realizes the necessity of a calm, philosophic mood.

Captain Bartlett has been here longer than any of us, and he is
commencing to get nervous. Commander Peary and he have done what is
nautically known as "swinging the ship," for the purpose of correcting
compass errors, and after that there is nothing for them to do but
wait. Captain Bartlett describes it as "Hell on Earth"; the Commander
has nothing to say, and I agree with him. Dr. Goodsell reads from his
little books, studies Esquimo language, writes in his diary and talks to
me and the rest of the party, and waits.

Professor MacMillan, with his eye ever to the south, and an occasional
glance at his frozen heel, cracks a joke and bids us be cheerful. He is
one _man_, and has surely made good. His first trip to this forsaken
region, yet he wakes up from his sleep with a smile on his face and a
question as to how a nice, large, juicy steak would go about now. This
is no place for jokes, yet his jokes are cheering and make us all feel
more light-hearted. He is the "life of the funeral" and by his
cheerfulness has kept our spirits from sinking to a dead level, and when
the Esquimos commenced to get cranky, by his diplomacy he brought them
to think of other subjects than going back to the ship.

He has started to kid us along by instituting a series of competitions
in athletic endeavors, and the Esquimos fall for it like the Innocents
that they are, and that is the object he is after. They have tried all
of their native stunts, wrestling, boxing, thumb-pulling, and
elbow-tests; and each winner has been awarded a prize. Most of the
prizes are back on the ship and include the anchors, rudders, keel, and
spars. Everything else has long since been given away, and these people
have keen memories.

The Big Lead has no attraction for the Esquimos and the waiting for a
chance to cross it has given them much opportunity to complain of cold
feet. It is fierce, listening to their whines and howls. Of all
yellow-livered curs deliver me. We have the best Esquimos in the tribe
with us, and expect them to remain steadfast and loyal, but after they
have had time to realize their position, the precariousness of it begins
to magnify and they start in to whimper, and beg to be allowed to go