mouth. It did me much good, and I could not help thinking of my present situation as contrasted with that of other civilized men. There, alone, among a people termed "unenlightened, savages, and degraded beings"—away by myself in a newly-discovered region, that is, in a district previously untrodden by my own white race—confined by sickness within a shelter that scarcely protects from rain and wind—every thing dripping wet—suffer ing from the pain of my body, and having no person to procure me what I might want, I am unexpectedly visited by a woman of the land, bearing in her hand a beautiful emblem of civilization filled with the most dainty dish—boiled salmon—fresh from the river I had just discovered. Truly woman—a good woman— is an angel wherever she is. The vision of Tweroong will long live in my memory. God bless the kind-hearted Innuit for her thoughtfulness, and her care of the white-man stranger in her own wonderful land.

During the day Koojesse was using in his soup some pepper which I had brought with me as a condiment. Koomuk desired to taste it, and Koojesse at once gratified her wish. He sifted some into her open hand, and she immediately lapped it up in one dose. The next moment all the contortions, grimaces, jumping, and spitting that could be imagined followed. The woman seemed as if stricken with sudden madness, and, when once more calm, declared that nothing should ever induce her to put such vile stuff in her mouth again. An hour later, Toolookaah, Koomuk's wing-a (husband), was served in a similar way. He came into the tent, and, seeing that something from my well-seasoned dish was still left, he desired to have it. What he thus coveted was merely salt and pepper, articles to him unknown. He, thinking it to be a delicacy of the white man's, licked it all up in quick time. The result may be imagined. Though myself sick, I could not control my laughter, in which "Miner" and the other Innuits joined on beholding the poor man's terror and dismay, added to the most comical contortions of his countenance. In Koomuk's case she had only pepper, but Toolookaah had a double dose— pepper and salt—and he suffered accordingly.

The next day, September 4th, I was still confined to my tent by sickness. The abscess on my shoulder had become so painful that every remedy in my power to apply was resorted to. At length a salve formed of reindeer tallow gave me some relief. During this time every kind attention was paid to me by the Innuit wom

GOOD-SOULED TWEROONG.

409

en, especially Tweroong, who frequently brought various cooked dishes to tempt my poor appetite. Oh, woman! thou, indeed, canst rob pain of its sting, and plant refreshing flowers in its place. Thy mission is a glorious one. Even among the rudest tribes of the earth thy softening hand and kindly heart are found. No land, however distant, however repulsive, limits thy noble deeds. Thy words may be few, but they are musical to one sick in body or wearied in mind; thy good works may be silently done, but they are lasting and immeasurable.

A very high tide occurred on the morning of September 5th. The weather was pleasanter, but many signs were manifest which urged me to return to the ship. The Kingaite mountains were topped with white, and the cold was sensibly felt in the night time; but my sick state still prevented me from moving out on any land excursion, as I wished. The same morning "Miner," with his wife and crew, left for the place of our thirteenth encampment.

* * * *

I here bring forward a few extracts from my journal: "Thursday, September 5th. To-morrow we leave our fifteenth encampment for the place of the thirteenth. There I shall find my good-souled Innuit friend Tweroong, who will prepare me something good. I do not like to leave here till I have done more work; but I must go, sick as I am.

"The weather now indicates a favorable change. The evening is pleasant. I pray God to bless me with restored health.

"This evening, at high tide, I and Koojesse were going to take the boat and ferry the river, that I might visit the remarkable phenomenon of these regions—the Sand Mount; but I have sent for him to come to my tupic, saying I could not go—was not able, indeed.

"The snow that fell last night, and which whitened the mountains of Kingaite this morning, has disappeared during the day. "Friday, September 6th. Another terrible night of struggle with pains. When shall I be well again? The fine weather of to-day has been of some benefit. God be praised.

"This morning, at an early hour, I was up. I might as well have been up all night; for, though down on a soft tuktoo bed, and dry, yet I could get no sweet sleep.

"When the tide was up sufficient to set the boat afloat, I got Koojesse and Koodloo to ferry me across the river, that I might visit the peculiar sight which had been constantly staring me in

my face during my five days' stop at the fifteenth encampment. I visited that phenomenon; I mounted it, and went around it also. It is a mount of marine fossils in limestone, half a mile long, and over a hundred feet high. It presents something of this appearance, the long line of Kingaite mountains behind stretching away to the Gateway northwest.

*

SILLIMAN'S FOSSIL MOUNT.

-*- "The débris of the fossils begins at or near the top of the mount, falling at such an angle as broken stone from a mountain always makes—an inclination of about 40°. Above the talus, or heap of broken stones, is a mass of fossils in limestone, strata-like. A smaller mount* of the same character is close by, but all in debris. It seems to have been divided from the main by the rushing down of waters from the mountains behind. A small stream comes down the mountains, passes along, and finally makes its way out between the two fossil mounts. This is also indicated in the course of this stream, as an acre or more of the plain

*The small mount referred to is not represented in the illustration, but is to the right, or northwest of the main one.

SILLIMAN'S FOSSIL MOUNT.

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is covered several feet in depth with the washed-down débris of fossils. I picked up several specimens, and have them with me. The top of Silliman's Fossil Mount is covered with boulders and grass. Even when close to the small mount it looks like sand, but on examination it is fine broken limestone and fossils.

Having spent two hours on and around this interesting mount, I made my way over the plain of grass between said mount and the river, and cried to those at the fifteenth encampment. Soon Koodloo, with two of the lady portion of the crew, put out after me. I had my arms and pockets full of specimens, and a hard, weak, weary time did I have of it.

"I had thought to cut in stone, somewhere near the fifteenth encampment, my name, or something to indicate my visit here (to the head of the Bay of Frobisher), but I had not the tools to do it with. This thought occurred to me on the idea that some of civilization who may yet make a voyage here might have this proof that I had preceded him or them.

"But the description of the river, the falls, the fossil mount, the miles of exposed bottom at low tide, will answer as well. What better proof do I want?

"When we got back to the encampment the tide had begun to fall. This indicated that, if we would get away to-day, we must make haste. The tupics I found all struck, and every thing ready for departure. I made the observations which commence this day's record, and then we were ready for our homeward voyage by way of Kingaite side. What deep regrets thus to depart from this interesting land that I have denominated Greenwood's Land!"

CHAPTER XXV.

Departure from Greenwood Land.—Numerous Rocks.—Furious Tides.—Narrow Escape.—Preservation Island.—Beginning of Winter.—Ice forming.—Author's Illness. Visits the principal Islands at Head of the Bay.—Koojesse a skillful Boatman. Another critical Position.—Nearly wrecked.—Saved by the rising Tide. Departure homeward.—The Kingaite Coast.—Boisterous Weather.—Detained on a rugged Island.—Renew the Voyage.—Difficulties with the Innuit Crew.—Freedom and Independence.—Land, and make eighteenth Encampment. My desire was to have continued here much longer, and thoroughly to have examined the vicinity of the natural "Gateway" already mentioned; but my companions were urgent to go, and I was obliged to yield. Accordingly, on the morning of September 6th, 1861, our tupics were struck, and we set out on the return journey.

It was 9 37 A.M. when we left our fifteenth encampment, and at ten o'clock we landed Koojesse and Koodloo on the opposite side of the estuary. They were desirous of going on another tuktoo hunt across the mountains, and were to rejoin us at the place where our thirteenth encampment had been made, the point to which we were now bound. There were thus left in the boat with me only the three women of my crew, and I was not free from anxiety till we had passed a point of land which I called the "Little Peak," and which was by the water's edge, surrounded by dangerous shoals. Then I supposed we had got over the critical portion of our way.

When abreast of the fourteenth encampment, and near a small island about one mile from that station, I found we were being carried along by the ebbing tide at a rapid rate, but I then apprehended no danger. Suzhi, who was experienced in boating, joyously called my attention to the swiftness of our progress, saying, with a sweeping motion of her hand, "pe-e-uke!" (good). But soon this feeling of pleasure was destroyed. It was not five minutes after Suzhi's exclamation when we were all struggling for dear life.

The island we were approaching was small, and it seemed to us that it mattered little on which side of it we should pass. On