when three loud cheers were given for the name of Henry Grinnell; and, as the echoes floated on the air, our good ship, now under sail, bore me rapidly away. Thus I left my country to try and accomplish that object upon which I had set my heart, namely, the solving of the yet unsettled mystery connected with the Lost Franklin Expedition.

I may as well say here that, throughout my narrative, all references to the Appendix will be noted by small numerals, indicating the explanatory notes.

ARCTIC RESEARCH EXPEDITION.

CHAPTER I.

Departure.—"Rescue" Schooner.—Names of Crew.—Outfit.—Sea-sickness.—First Sight of Whales.—William Sterry.—Banks of Newfoundland.—Storm at Sea.— "Sulphur Bottoms."—The first Iceberg.—Visit to one.—The Danish Brig Mariane.—Past Experiences of Scurvy.—Death and Burial of Kudlago.—Fourth of July at Sea. Halibut and Codfish.—First Meeting with Esquimaux.—Native Pilots.—Ephraim's Pants.—Midnight Sun.—Arrival at Holsteinborg.

It was on Tuesday, May 29th, 1860, that I departed from New London, Conn., on my voyage in the barque George Henry. We were accompanied by a tender, the Amaret schooner, formerly the far-famed "Rescue" of arctic celebrity—a name that I intend to retain in speaking of her throughout my narrative.

The officers and crews of these two vessels numbered in all twenty-nine persons; my expedition consisted of Kudlago and myself, thus making a total of thirty-one souls leaving New London.

As I shall have frequent occasion to mention some of the ship's company by name, I here give a list of them and their rating on board.

My outfit for this voyage,* and for the whole of my expedition, consisted of

The boat, already described; 1 sledge; ton of pemmican; 200 lbs. Borden's meat biscuit; 20 lbs. "Cincinnati cracklings"—pork scraps; 1 lb. preserved quince; 1 lb. preserved peaches; 250 lbs. powder; a quantity of ball, shot, and percussion caps; 1 rifle; 6 double-barreled guns, covers, and extra fittings; one Colt's revolver complete; glass beads, a quantity of needles, etc., for presents to the natives; 2 dozen pocket knives and choppers; some tin-ware, 1 axe, 2 picks, files, etc.; a good supply of tobacco and pipes; wearing apparel for self, and red shirts for presents; a supply of stationery and journal books, etc.; 1 common watch; 1 operaglass; 1 spy-glass; 1 common sextant and 1 pocket sextant; 1 artificial horizon, with extra glass and mercury; 1 azimuth compass; 1 common compass; 2 pocket compasses; 3 ordinary thermometers and two self-registering ones. Some navigation books and several arctic works, with my Bible and a few other volumes, formed my library.

This list, with a few sundries, constituted all the means and material I had to carry out the great undertaking my mind had led me to embark in. How far I accomplished aught commensurate with the ideas I had formed, let the sequel show; but, even had I wholly failed, assuredly it would have been excusable under such circumstances.

With regard to myself personally, now that the excitement of preparation was over, and I had time to think more and more of my task, a reaction took place, which produced that depression of mind always to be found in similar cases. This was soon increased by the horrible sensation of sea-sickness which I experienced for several days after our departure. What my feelings. were may be judged by the following extracts from an irregular diary, the only work I could at that time perform. Writing on the fifth day out, I find myself saying,

"More miserable days than these past few have been to me it would be difficult to imagine. And why? Because of sickness -sea-sickness. And what is sea-sickness? Can any one tell unless they have experienced it? I imagine not; nor, perhaps, can many describe it who have come under its infliction. I know that I can not well do so. I have felt myself swung, tumbled, jammed, knocked, struck, rocked, turned, skewed, slewed, warped, pitched forward and backward, tossed up and down, down and up, this way and that way, round and round, crossways and kit-acornered, in every possible manner. On the ocean, fresh from civilized life, this may be called sea-sickness, but elsewhere I should * For particulars, see Appendix, No. 2.

term it next to a torturous death! No more terrible experience can a man have of life upon the broad waters than his first few days at sea when thus attacked."

Again, at a later date I find, "A miserable time I have had of it—ill nearly since we left; and now, as I write, my head is like a mountain of solid rock. Sea-sickness is really too bad, especial ly after eating, or trying to eat, a good dinner."

An ancient philosopher, on reviewing his work at the end of each day, and finding no special good acquired or accomplished, used to write down in his diary, "Perdidi diem"—I have lost a day. Alas for me, I had to repeat that in my journal for twelve days! It is true that several times I recorded the temperature of the air and sea, the state of the barometer, and made various other observations whenever the weather would permit, but, nevertheless, so powerless did I feel for mental or bodily work, that at the end of each day I felt compelled to enter down as a sad but truthful fact, "Perdidi diem." At length I quite recovered, and on the 9th of June, for the first time since leaving port, I felt as a man should feel, once more strong and capable of any exertion. I soon began to classify my labors, devoting so many hours to reading, to study, to writing, exercise, reflection, and sleep. As my buoyancy of spirits arose, and I watched the good ship bounding on her way over the sparkling waters, every thing seemed full of life and animation. The Giver of all good was supreme the blue ocean as He was upon the shore. Even the "Mother Cary's chickens"—the little stormy petrel—sportively played about, no doubt happy in their way, as they danced up and down, slightly dipping the tips of their wings in the uneven waves, and then hieing away to absent mates, that they might be brought to greet the passing ship.

upon

About a week after our departure, the cry was raised, There she blows! there she blows! and, hurrying on deck, I for the first time saw at a distance the blowing of whales. What this "blowing" was like may be described by asking if the reader has ever seen the smoke produced by the firing of an old-fashioned flint-lock? If so, then he may understand the appearance of the blow of a whale—a flash in the pan, and all is over. I watched with eager interest this school of "fin-backs," numbering some. twenty-five or thirty whales—a rare sight to see so many together. But they are not generally attacked, as they are difficult to capture, and yield but little oil.

A day or two after this, a cry of Porpoises! brought all hands on deck; and here a circumstance occurred, which, though trivial in itself, well serves to illustrate the unartificial character of one of the ship's company, the William Sterry previously mentioned. It is related in my Journal as follows:

"Directly the porpoises were seen, Sterry, who has a genial heart and strong arm, took his position by the martingale, or, as a Dane would call it, 'Dolphin Striker,' which is under the bowsprit. Harpoon in hand, there stood Sterry, prepared for a whale or aught else, ready for his blow. Now Sterry was Sterry—Sterry the cooper—Sterry the ship's carpenter—Sterry the ship's blacksmith—Sterry the millwright—Sterry the genius—the immortal Sterry, who could eat more pork and beans, and drink more whisky out of a two-quart pantry pitcher, without distinguishing its smell and taste from pure cold water, than any other gentleman hailing from his native place of Groton. There indeed was Sterry, seemingly hanging between the heavens and the sea, his feet dangling on a tow line, and his hands grasping the martingale back-rope. While I stood watching him, his eyes appeared to roll in fire as they pierced the blue deep, especially so when he struck his head against the 'bobstay chains' in turning to look for the contrast between the porpoises beneath him and the jibboom above. And here I may add that Sterry was a great philosopher on 'contrasts,' pros and cons; positives and negatives were with him the only 'hanimals that have souls worth saving.' Well, there stood Sterry preparing to 'pucker,' and pucker he did. A strange sound, which arrested my attention, stole out of his mouth. Startled, I listened attentively, and found him actually whistling for the porpoises! But no porpoise seemed to listen to his charm. Often did he poise his harpoon as his intended victim glided swiftly through the waters beneath him, but as often did he have to drop it again. At length the porpoises retired, and Sterry had to give up his game.

"When the attempt was over, I asked Captain B― if Sterry's whistling really did any good, and the reply was, as I expected, 'No, none whatever.' Sterry at the time was within hearing, and immediately said, '1 guess-it-did-n't-do-much-of-any-harmany-how-captain;' and then, turning to me, added, 'Captain Hall' (so he always called me), 'I tell you what it is, Before you have been up North a great while, you'll find you've got to whistle as many whistles as there are species of hanimals, birds, and fishes,