in August, and continues
throughout September. As it drew near, the settlement prepared to move
farther north, to a locality where they claimed whales could be found
in abundance. I cheerfully assisted in the preparations, for to meet
some whaling vessel was my only hope of rescue from surroundings that
made existence a living death.

The dogs were harnessed to sleds heavily laden with the equipments of an
Esquimaux hut. The woman, as well as the men, were burdened with immense
packs; and our journey begun. We halted only to rest and sleep. A few
hours work furnished us a new house out of the ever present ice. We
feasted on raw meat--sometimes a freshly killed deer; after which our
journey was resumed.

As near as I could determine, it was close to the 85 deg. north latitude,
where we halted on the shore of an open sea. Wild ducks and game were
abundant, also fish of an excellent quality. Here, for the first time in
many months, I felt the kindly greeting of a mild breeze as it hailed me
from the bosom of the water. Vegetation was not profuse nor brilliant,
but to my long famished eyes, its dingy hue was delightfully refreshing.

Across this sea I instantly felt a strong desire to sail. I believed it
must contain an island of richer vegetation than the shore we occupied.
But no one encouraged me or would agree to be my companion. On the
contrary, they intimated that I should never return. I believed that
they were trying to frighten me into remaining with them, and declared
my intention to go alone. Perhaps I might meet in that milder climate
some of my own race. My friend smiled, and pointing to the South, said,
as he designated an imaginary boundary:

"Across _that_ no white man's foot has ever stepped."

So I was alone. My resolution, however, was not shaken. A boat was
constructed, and bidding adieu to my humble companions, I launched into
an unknown sea.

CHAPTER II.

On and on, and on I rowed until the shore and my late companions were
lost in the gloomy distance. On and on, and still on, until fatigued
almost to exhaustion; and still, no land. A feeling of uncontrollable
lonesomeness took possession of me. Silence reigned supreme. No sound
greeted me save the swirl of the gently undulating waters against the
boat, and the melancholy dip of the oars. Overhead, the familiar eyes of
night were all that pierced the gloom that seemed to hedge me in. My
feeling of distress increased when I discovered th