truments on
Stalknecht Island, and the other party under Melville, some of whom had
not yet returned, were to come after in the "Thetis," which was left
behind to pick them up. The passage which the ships and the cutter were
to make was about six miles, although from Payer Harbor to the
wreck-cache, in a straight line, across the rugged neck of intervening
land, it was less than half that distance. Fortunately, the southerly
gale had set the ice off shore into Kane Sea, leaving a clear passage
around for the vessels.

It was half-past eight o'clock in the evening as the cutter steamed
around the rocky bluff of Cape Sabine and made her way to the cove, four
miles farther on, which Colwell remembered so well from his hurried
landing with the stores on the terrible night following the wreck of the
"Proteus." The storm, which had been raging with only slight intervals
since early the day before, still kept up, and the wind was driving
in bitter gusts through the openings in the ridge that followed the
coast to the westward. Although the sky was overcast, it was broad
daylight,--the daylight of a dull winter afternoon,--and as the cutter
passed along, Colwell could recognize the familiar landmarks of the year
before; the long sweep of the rocky coast, with its ice-foot spanning
every cove, the snow gathered in the crevices, the projecting headlands,
and the line of the ice-pack which had ground up the "Proteus," dimly
seen in the mists to the north, across the tossing waters of Kane Sea.
At last the boat arrived at the site of the wreck-cache, and the shore
was eagerly scanned, but nothing could be seen. Rounding the next point,
the cutter opened out the cove beyond. There, on the top of a little
ridge, fifty or sixty yards above the ice-foot, was plainly outlined the
figure of a man. Instantly the coxswain caught up the boat-hook and
waved his flag. The man on the ridge had seen them, for he stooped,
picked up a signal-flag from the rock, and waved it in reply. Then he
was seen coming slowly and cautiously down the steep rocky slope. Twice
he fell down before he reached the foot. As he approached, still walking
feebly and with difficulty, Colwell hailed him from the bow of the boat.

"Who all are there left?"

"Seven left."

As the cutter struck the ice, Colwell jumped off and went up to him. He
was a ghastly sight. His cheeks were hollow, his eyes wild, his hair and
beard long and matted. His army blouse, covering seve