CHAPTER III.

Double Cape Bathurst--Whales--Bituminous-shale Cliffs on Fire--Enter Franklin Bay--Heavy Gale--Peninsula of Cape Parry--Perforated Rock--Detention at Cape Lyon by Wind--Force of an Esquimaux Arrow--Meet with heavy Ice--Pass Union and Dolphin Straits--Double Cape Krusenstern, and enter George the Fourth's Coronation Gulph--Reach the Coppermine River--Remarks--Meteorological Table.

As soon as we entered the clear green water off Cape Bathurst, we perceived a strong flood tide setting against us, and saw several white whales, and some black ones of a large size, but of a species unknown to Ooligbuck. The natives term them aggeewoerk, which is the name given, by the Esquimaux of Hudson's Bay, to the black whales that frequent the Welcome. Many large masses of ice were floating about, but they were no impediment to the boats. The beach, from the time we left Esquimaux Lake, was bold, there being two or three fathoms water close to the shore. We hailed this change of circumstances with pleasure, for the shoals and islands skirting Esquimaux Lake had embarrassed us much, and the brackishness of the water, combined with the trending of the coast to the northward, and even westward, had excited in our minds an apprehension, that we might possibly be obliged to make a great circuit in search of a passage, out of that extraordinary piece of water, and that the opening, when found, might lie so far to the northward as to be obstructed by an icy sea. Fortunately our fears were groundless; and, to increase our joy, the coast-line from Cape Bathurst appeared to run in a straight direction for Coppermine River. There were many winter-houses built by the Esquimaux on Cape Bathurst. The cliffs facing the sea were still frozen, but the water trickling down their sides showed that they were thawing rapidly. We encamped on the beach in latitude 70 degrees 32-1/2 minutes N., longitude 127 degrees 21 minutes W., having sailed that day thirty-seven miles. A plentiful supply of very fine sorrel (oxyria reniformis) being obtained from the banks, proved an agreeable addition to our supper.

The coast consists of precipitous banks, similar in structure to the bituminous-shale cliffs at Whitby, in Yorkshire. They gradually increase in altitude from Cape Bathurst, and near our encampment their height exceeded two hundred and fifty feet. The shale was in a state of ignition in many places, and the hot sulphureous airs from the land were strongly contrasted with cold sea-breezes with which, in the morning, they alternated. The combustion had proceeded to a considerable extent on the point where we landed at noon. Much alum had formed, and the baked clays of yellow, brown, white, and red colours, caused the place to resemble a brick-field or a pottery. This point, which was named after Dr. Traill, of Liverpool, lies in latitude 70 degrees 19 minutes N. The interior of the country, as seen from the top of the cliffs, appeared to be nearly level, and to abound in small lakes. The soil was clayey, and from the recent thaw wet and soft. Tufts of the beautiful phlox, before mentioned, were scattered over these, otherwise unsightly wastes; and, notwithstanding the scanty vegetation, rein-deer were numerous. Some of the young ones, to whom man was doubtless a novel object, came trotting up to gratify their curiosity, and were suffered to depart unmolested. The sea here abounds in molluscae, and many black whales were seen; also king-ducks, eiders, snow-birds, hawks, and a large moth.

Soon after landing the weather became very foggy, and the wind increased to a heavy gale. The cliffs at our encampment consisted of slate-clay, and bituminous alum-slate, and were six hundred feet high. The river, whose mouth we passed, ran close behind them, having a course parallel to the coast for some miles before it makes its way to the sea. It was named Wilmot Horton River, in honour of the Under Secretary of State for the Colonial Department. Its breadth is about three hundred yards, and it seems, from the quantity of drift-timber that was piled on the shoals at its mouth, to flow through a wooded country. The length of this day's voyage was twenty-four miles, and the position of our encampment was in latitude 69 degrees 50 minutes N., longitude 125 degrees 55 minutes W. At high-water, which took place at a quarter past four in the afternoon, the small slip of beach on which we had encamped was almost covered, and we had to pile the baggage on the shelving cliff. A very showy species of gromwell grew near our encampment, in company with the common sea-gromwell, (lithospermum maritimum.)

About two miles from our late encampment, the bituminous shale was again noticed to be on fire, giving out much smoke; and as we advanced, the cliffs became less precipitous, appearing as if they had fallen down from the consumption of the combustible strata. They gradually terminated in a green and sloping bank, whose summit, about two miles from the sea, rose to the height of about six hundred feet. For the information of the general reader, I may mention that the shale takes fire in consequence of its containing a considerable quantity of sulphur in a state of such minute division, that it very readily attracts oxygen from the atmosphere, and inflames. The combustion is rendered more lively by the presence of bitumen; and the sulphuric acid, which is one of its products, unites with the alumina of the shale to form, with the addition of a small quantity of potass, the triple salt, well known by the name of alum. The moistening of the strata by the sea-spray accelerates the process. In some alum-works, where nature has not been so favourable as in the cliffs of Cape Bathurst, a deficiency of the bituminous matter requisite to keep up the proper intensity of combustion, is supplied by brush-wood, which is strewed in alternate layers with shale that has been previously much divided by long exposure to the weather, and the whole is then moistened with salt-water. A further account of these cliffs is given in page xl. of the Appendix.

In the forenoon we passed the mouths of two small rivers, which were designated after Sir Henry Jardine, Bart., King's Remembrancer in the Court of Exchequer for Scotland; and Dr. Burnett, Commissioner of the Victualling Board. A meridian observation was obtained in latitude 69 degrees 38 minutes N.

In the afternoon the wind blowing more on the shore, caused a tumbling sea. We sailed amongst much stranded ice, and, following the line of coast, were gradually led into a deep bay, whose east side, having a northerly direction, was formed by low land, and so much broken by numerous and extensive inlets, as to look more like a collection of islands than a part of the main land. We were now, reckoning by degrees of longitude, fully half way from Point Separation to the Coppermine River, and the coast from Cape Bathurst had been so exactly in the proper direction, as to excite high hopes of a short and prosperous voyage: it was, therefore, no pleasant sight to us to behold land running out at right angles to our course, and we were willing to believe that a passage existed betwixt it and the main. This opinion was supported by the direction of the high land, which had hitherto skirted the shore, continuing to be south-easterly, until lost to the sight at the distance of fifteen or twenty miles. We, therefore, endeavoured to find a passage, but the first opening that we came to, led into a circular basin of water, apparently land-locked, and about five miles in diameter. We halted at its entrance to cook our supper, and, during our stay, perceiving that the ebb-tide set out of it, we determined on searching for a passage elsewhere. This inlet is six fathoms deep at its entrance, and would prove an excellent harbour for a ship, only for the sand-banks, which skirt this part of the coast, and which render the passage into it too intricate for vessels having a greater draught of water than our boats. It was named Langton Harbour, after the agent for the Hudson's Bay Company at Liverpool.

Leaving this harbour, and steering to the northward, we passed several inlets, into which the flood-tide set with a strong current. We could not see land towards their bottoms, but their mouths were shoal, and we felt convinced that there was no passage through them, because the flood-tide entered them from the westward. [Sidenote: Saturday, 22nd.] We, therefore, proceeded on our voyage without wasting time in examining them; and at two o'clock, on the morning of the 22nd, having come fifty-four miles, we encamped on a beach composed of small fragments of limestone, and strewed with sea-weed. This beach, which received the name of Point Stivens, separates an extensive sheet of salt-water from the sea, and is similar in character to the Chesil Beach, that connects the Isle of Portland to the shore. It varies in breadth from one hundred yards to a quarter of a mile, is several miles long, has a northern direction, and seems to have been formed by the sweep of the tide round the bay, meeting the ebb from the basins that intersects the peninsular promontory with which it is connected. There are several narrow breaches in it through which the tide flows. Anxious to discover the termination of this promontory which was leading us so much out of the direct course to the Coppermine, I went to the summit of a rising ground, about five miles distant, but the view was closed by some small hills, two or three miles off. The soil was clayey, and vegetation scanty.

In taking wood to make a fire, from a large pile of drift-timber which had been collected by the Esquimaux, the nest of a snow-bird, containing four young, was discovered. The parent bird was at first scared away, but affection for its offspring at length gave it courage to approach them with food; and as it was not molested it soon became quite fearless, and fed them with the larvae of insects, whilst the party were seated at breakfast close by the nest.

At nine o'clock, A.M., we embarked again, and running before a favourable breeze, came to a point consisting of cliffs of limestone, twenty feet high, with a small island of the same kind of rock at its extremity. Many large boulders of greenstone were seen here. After ascertaining the latitude by meridian observation to be 69 degrees 42 minutes N., we continued our voyage along a bold shore, consisting of precipices of limestone, forty or fifty feet high, with three or four fathoms of water at the base. In the evening, having reached a projection which appeared to be the western pitch of the cape, we encamped in a bay near a remarkable perforated rock, having come twenty-six miles since leaving Point Stivens. In the course of the day's voyage we had to make our way through some pretty extensive streams of ice, composed of pieces which rose eight or ten feet above the water; and we saw a considerable quantity of what is termed sailing ice to seaward, being such as a ship could make her way through. I had now the gratification of naming the extensive bay we had been coasting for three days, after my friend and commanding officer; and to the several inlets on its eastern side I assigned the names of Wright, Cracroft, and Sellwood, in honour of his near relatives. A group of islands to the northward was named Booth Islands on the same account.

In bestowing the name of Franklin on this remarkable bay, I paid an appropriate compliment to the officer, under whose orders and by whose arrangements the delineation of all that is known of the northern coast of the American Continent has been effected; with the exception of the parts in the vicinity of Icy Cape discovered by Captain Beechey. It would not be proper, nor is it my intention, to descant on the professional merits of my superior officer; but after having served under Captain Franklin for nearly seven years, in two successive voyages of discovery, I trust I may be allowed to say, that however high his brother officers may rate his courage and talents, either in the ordinary line of his professional duty, or in the field of discovery, the hold he acquires upon the affections of those under his command, by a continued series of the most conciliating attentions to their feelings, and an uniform and unremitting regard to their best interests, is not less conspicuous. I feel that the sentiments of my friends and companions, Captain Back and Lieutenant Kendall, are in unison with my own, when I affirm, that gratitude and attachment to our late commanding officer will animate our breasts to the latest period of our lives. After this feeble but sincere tribute of respect and regard, in which I hope I have not overstepped the proper bounds of a narrative, I hasten to resume the details of the voyage.

The country in the neighbourhood of the encampment consisted entirely of limestone, mostly of the variety named dolomite, and, as is usual where that stone prevails, it was extremely barren. The cliffs and points of land present many caverns and perforated rocks, which have very strong resemblances to the windows and crypts of Gothic buildings. The common kittiwake breeds in great numbers on the rocky ledges in this quarter, and their young were already fledged. The temperature during the day was nearly stationary at 46 degrees, the wind south. The evening being very fine, the pemmican was taken out of the bags, which were scraped and dried; and our loss of provision, by the wetting it sustained in the gale of the 20th, proved to be less than we had expected.

In the evening we encamped on an island, which was named by Mr. Kendall after the Reverend Dr. Burrow of Epping. It is situated in latitude 69 degrees 49 minutes N., longitude 123 degrees 33 minutes W. The length of the day's voyage was thirty-one miles. Fine weather, and a temperature of 52 degrees, entailed upon us a visit from the musquitoes. The sea water here is of a light blue colour and clear, the bottom being distinctly visible in five fathoms. Pieces of ice still adhered to the cliffs.

From Clapperton Island we had a view of a ridge of hills, which, from their direction, appeared to be a continuation of those on the west side on Franklin Bay. The island itself, like the neighbouring coast, is composed of limestone, and many detached rocks skirt it, rising from water that is beautifully clear. When we landed there was a strong current setting to the eastward, round the end of the island, but it ceased at four P.M., the time of low water, and was probably produced by the ebb setting out of some of the inlets of Cape Parry. In the evening the ice made a noise so like the regular firing of half-minute guns, as to excite, at first, an idea that we heard the guns of a ship. The temperature at six o'clock in the evening was as high as 74 degrees in the shade.

Clapperton Island lies in latitude 69 degrees 41-1/2 minutes N., and nearly in the longitude of Fort Franklin, from which it is distant three hundred and thirteen miles in a straight line; but the distance between the nearer part of the Great Bear Lake and the Arctic Sea here, does not much exceed one hundred and ninety miles.

The country in the neighbourhood of Cape Lyon presents a surface varied by gently swelling eminences, covered with a grassy sward, and intersected by several narrow ridges of naked trap rocks, rising about one hundred and fifty feet above the general level. The trap ridges, when they reach the coast, form high cliffs, and the clay-slate and limestone lie in nearly horizontal strata beneath them. The view inland was terminated by the range of hills which we had seen at the bottom of Darnley Bay, to which the name of Melville Range was now given, in honour of the Right Honourable the Lord Viscount Melville.

From the top of the highest trap-hill, near the extremity of the cape, we saw some heavy ice to seaward, but with enough of open water for the passage of a ship; and, occasionally, during our stay, there was an appearance of land to the north-westward, occupying two points of the compass; but we were uncertain whether it might not be a fog-bank hanging over a field of ice. If it was land, it could not be less than twenty-five or thirty miles distant, and must, from the portion of the horizon it occupied, be a large island. Upon the summit of the hill we erected a pile of stones, and deposited another letter for Captain Parry, containing a short account of our proceedings.

A gale of wind detained us two days at Cape Lyon, during which Ooligbuck supplied us with rein-deer meat, and Mr. Kendall obtained several sets of lunars. The latitude of our encampment, by the mean of three meridian observations, was 69 degrees 46-1/2 minutes N.; and the longitude, by lunar distances, 122 degrees 51 minutes W. The temperature of the air, during the gale, was about 45 degrees, that of the water 35 degrees. During our stay at Cape Lyon the tides were regular, but the rise and fall were short of twenty inches. At midnight on the 26th of July, the sun's lower limb was observed to touch the horizon for the first time since our arrival on the coast. Some old winter houses were seen in our walks, but we perceived no indications of the Esquimaux having recently visited this quarter.

The night was fine but cold, the temperature having fallen to 35 degrees soon after we started, and at midnight the sun sunk for nearly half an hour beneath the horizon. [Sidenote: Friday, 28th.] We passed much heavy stream-ice, and towards the morning a quantity of new, or, as the seamen term it, "bay ice," having formed on the surface on the sea, the boats were so much retarded that we put ashore at four o'clock of the 28th, to wait until the increasing heat of the day dissolved it. The point on which we landed was named after Admiral Sir Richard Godwin Keats, G.C.B., Governor of Greenwich Hospital, and lies in latitude 69 degrees 49 minutes N. and longitude 122 degrees W., being about eighteen miles distant from our encampment on Cape Lyon. The rocks at Point Keats consist of flesh-coloured sandstone. The Melville range of hills approaches there within eight or ten miles of the sea, and the intervening country is traversed by ridges of greenstone. On the coast from Cape Lyon to Point Keats there is a line of large drift timber, evidently thrown up by the waves, about twelve feet perpendicular height, above the ordinary spring tides: a sufficient proof of the sea being nearly clear of ice at the time it was thrown up; for the presence of any considerable quantity, even of stream-ice, prevents the waves from rising high. After two hours halt, the bay-ice having dissolved we re-embarked.

From Cape Lyon to Point Keats the coast runs nearly east; after quitting the latter we found it trending a little to the southward, and from a point, which was named in honour of John Deas Thompson, Esq., Commissioner of His Majesty's Navy, it has nearly a south-east direction. We landed a little to the eastward of Point Deas Thompson, to take a meridian observation for latitude, in a small bay, bounded by cliffs of limestone, one hundred and forty feet high, in which the waves had sculptured some beautiful Gothic arches. From the summit of the cliffs we saw a dark appearance in the eastern horizon, but it was too indistinct to permit us to decide whether it was land or merely a fog-bank. To the eastward of these cliffs the coast decreased in height, and, at the distance of five miles, we passed a small river, which was named after Francis Palgrave, Esq. Near this river, on the summit of a cliff, which was twenty-five feet high, we noticed several large logs of drift timber, with some hummocks of gravel, that appeared to have been thrown up by the waves. A portion of the Melville Range lies within three miles of the shore there; and one of its most remarkable hills was named after my esteemed friend, William Jackson Hooker, LL.D., Regius Professor of Botany in the University of Glasgow; and another after Colonel Colby, of the Royal Engineers, one of the Members of the Board of Longitude. About four o'clock in the afternoon we came to a stream flowing from a lake, and as it was an excellent boat harbour, we entered it and encamped. It was named Roscoe, after the eloquent historian of the Medici; and a conical hill of the Melville Range, visible from its mouth, received the name of the venerable geographer Major Rennel.

We passed this day through heavier and more crowded streams of ice than any we had previously seen on the voyage. The navigation amongst it was tedious and difficult, and just before we put ashore much motion was imparted to it by a fresh south-west wind. The temperature during the day varied from 35 degrees to 50 degrees. The mouth of Roscoe River lies in latitude 69 degrees 41 minutes N., longitude 121 degrees 2 minutes W., and is forty-eight miles distant from Cape Lyon.

For the first twelve miles after leaving our encampment, the coast was low and sandy; the Melville Range still forming the back-ground, at the distance of four or five miles from the sea. The low beaches were terminated by a rocky headland, which obtained from us the name of De Witt Clinton, as a testimony of our sense of the urbanity and love of science which had prompted his Excellency the Governor of the state of New York to show so much attention to the members of the Expedition, in their passage through his government. Some miles beyond Point De Witt Clinton we came to a steep cliff, where the ice was so closely packed that we could not force a passage. The cargoes were, therefore, carried along the foot of the cliff, and the boats launched for a few yards over a piece of ice. In this operation, the shelving base of an iceberg, which had formed under the cliff, and still adhered to it, but which was undermined by the waves, gave way whilst several of the men were standing upon it; but, fortunately, it did not overset, and they received no injury, as it was large enough to support them in the water. At nine o'clock, A.M., we were stopped by the closeness of the ice, and put ashore until the tide or wind should produce some change.

The tides, since leaving the Mackenzie, had never been observed to have a greater rise than eighteen inches: but in the neighbourhood of our encampment, the sea-wrack and lines of drift timber indicated a washing of the sea to the perpendicular height of twenty feet. The country in this vicinity consists of a bluish limestone, interstratified with slate-clay: and naked and rugged ridges of trap rocks rise in various places above the general level. The soil is composed of clay and limestone gravel. The latitude of our encampment was ascertained, by meridian observation, to be 69 degrees 29 minutes N.; its longitude was 120 degrees 20 minutes W.; and its distance from Roscoe River was twenty-five miles.

The coast from Cape Clifton to Point Wise consists of limestone in horizontal layers, forming cliffs, which are separated from each other by intervening shelving beaches, and it is skirted to the distance of a quarter of a mile by rocky shoals, having sufficient water on them for our boats, but not enough to admit the heavy ice. This was the cause of our making greater progress than we had been led to expect from the appearance of the ice in the morning. The cliffs at Point Wise are two hundred feet high, and from their summits, the ice appeared closely packed, as far as the eye could reach; no lanes of open water being visible. It was, however, composed of pieces, and not a continuous field, for we could distinctly perceive that several of the hummocks it inclosed were in motion. This was the first time during the voyage that we saw ice so closely packed, as to appear impenetrable to a ship when impelled by a good breeze, but it is necessary to state that, even from a considerable height, we could not tell with certainty the state of the ice six miles off; scattered pieces at that distance assuming the appearance of a close pack. The weather this day was fine, the temperature varying from 43 degrees to 50 degrees.

From Cape Young we had a view of the sea thickly covered with ice, of a greater thickness than any we had previously encountered; and we perceived that there was a deeply indented bay lying in our route, and so filled with ice, that our only method of passing it appeared to be by keeping close to the shore, although under the disadvantage of trebling the distance. The coast in this quarter is similar to that which we had passed on the two or three preceding days, and is formed of high limestone cliffs, with intervening shingly beaches; but the country is still more barren, the quantity of limestone debris almost excluding any soil. Flat limestone rocks, having only a few inches of water upon them, skirt the beach, and terminate like a wall in four or five fathoms water. The ice was closely packed against these rocks, and for five miles after passing Cape Young, we made a way for the boats only by the constant use of the hatchet and ice-chisel, and gladly encamped at six o'clock in the evening, after a day's voyage of thirty-one miles. A herd of twenty rein-deer were grazing on the beach, but our hunters were too much fatigued to go in pursuit of them. The encampment was situated in latitude 68 degrees 53 minutes N., and longitude 116 degrees 50 minutes W. The temperature varied in the course of the day from 34 degrees to 50 degrees. We observed that the ice continued to dissolve, but not so rapidly as in the month of July, when the sun did not sink below the horizon.

At four o'clock P.M. we had advanced five miles, when to our joy we found a lane of open water, which permitted us to cross to the other side of the bay, where we encamped in latitude 68 degrees 51-1/2 minutes N., and longitude 116 degrees 03 minutes W., having sailed in the course of the day eighteen miles and a half. The bay was named Stapylton in honour of Major-General the Honourable G.A.C. Stapylton, Chairman of the Victualling Board; and on ascending a rising ground we perceived that it communicates with a long, narrow lake. A few miles from the coast the land rises from three to five hundred feet above the sea, and presents many precipitous limestone cliffs, and chains of small lakes. The country is very barren, the only plant we gathered being the yellow poppy, (papaver nudicaule.) By our reckoning we were now nearly in the longitude of the mouth of the Coppermine River, but about seventy miles to the northward of it, we, therefore, entertained an opinion that we were coasting a narrow peninsula, and that we should soon have the pleasure of perceiving the coast take a southerly direction. It was, consequently, with some hopes of beholding the sea on the opposite side of the peninsula that I walked seven or eight miles to the eastward in the night, but I was disappointed. In my way I had occasion to wade through a small lake, when two birds, about the size of the northern diver, and apparently of that genus, swam, with bold and angry gestures, to within a few yards of me, evidently very impatient of any intruder on their domain. Their necks were of a beautiful pale yellow colour, their bodies black with white specks. I considered them to belong to a species not yet described, and regretted that, having left my gun at the tent, it was not in my power to procure one of them for a specimen.

On reaching the cape which was named after Vice-Admiral Sir William Johnstone Hope, G.C.B., we descried another point about four or five leagues distant, bearing east-north-east, the intervening bay being filled with closely packed ice. We were now within twelve miles of Cape Young, after a laborious navigation of four times that distance, and the prospect of another bay, equally unpromising, was very vexatious; but our apprehensions were increased by the view of a continuous line of land, extending from north-north-west until it was hid behind the nearer cape, which bore east-north-east, for we feared that it might prove to be a continuation of the main shore. Our crews, though concerned at the delay that so much ice was likely to occasion, set about overcoming the obstacle with a hearty good will, and after an intricate and troublesome navigation of ten or twelve miles amongst the ice, we found the bottom of the bay more open, and were enabled to cross over to the eastern side where we encamped. This bay received the name of the eminent astronomer James South, Esq.

Mr. Kendall having gone to ascertain from the higher ground the trending of the coast, returned in about two hours with the cheering intelligence that the land to the northward was unconnected with the main shore, and that he had seen the latter inclining to the south-east, with a much more open sea than we had lately been accustomed to. As soon as supper was over, I also set out to enjoy the gratifying prospect, and from the extremity of the cape on which we were encamped, and which was named in honour of the Right Honourable Lord Bexley, I beheld the northern land running from north-north-west till it was lost in the horizon on a north 73 degrees east bearing. It seemed to be pretty high but not mountainous; and although broken towards the east, the principal portion of it appeared to be continuous. This island, by far the largest one that was seen, either in the present voyage or on Captain Franklin's former Expedition, was named after that most distinguished philosopher Dr. Hyde Wollaston. The main shore had a direction nearly parallel to Wollaston Land, its most distant point in sight, which I estimated to be fifteen miles off, bearing S. 61 degrees E. On the strait, separating the two shores, I bestowed the names of our excellent little boats, the Dolphin and Union. It varies in width from twelve to twenty miles, and to the eastward seemed to contain merely detached streams of ice, not likely to obstruct the progress of a vessel; but to the westward lay the closely packed ice, filling South's Bay, and extending to seaward. The ice did not, however, entirely close the strait, for I could discern lanes of open water towards Wollaston Land. The packed ice which we had seen lining the coast between Point Clifton and Cape Bexley, may be perhaps considered as an illustration of the remark made by Captain Parry, that the western sides of seas and inlets in those latitudes are more encumbered with ice than the opposite sides; and it is very probable that a ship might have found a passage by keeping along Wollaston Land, an opinion which the appearance of the ice as seen from Cape Bexley, tended to confirm. The latitude of our encampment was 68 degrees 58 minutes N., and its longitude 115 degrees 47 minutes W.; it was within ten miles of our encampment of the preceding night, although we had travelled twenty-five miles in the course of the day.

At eleven o'clock we came to a pack of ice abutting against the shore, but while we halted to cook breakfast, the wind opened a way for us. In the course of the morning we passed many heavy streams of ice, separated by lanes of open water, which would have afforded an easy passage for a ship. Having obtained a meridian observation for latitude, we re-embarked, and pulled for five miles through an open channel, to Point Cockburn, on the opposite side of a bay, which appeared to be four or five miles deep, and to be quite filled with drift-ice. Many deer were seen grazing near this point, but we did not stop to send a hunter in pursuit of them. We afterwards crossed several other indentations of the coast, skirted by reefs of limestone and low islets, and encamped on Chantry Island, lying close to the main shore, in latitude 68 degrees 45 minutes N., longitude 114 degrees 23 minutes W., having sailed thirty-nine miles in the course of the day. Two islands, lying opposite to our encampment, received the appellations of Manners Sutton and Sir Robert Liston's Islands. The degree of motion in the ice, which was drifting between these islands and the shore, indicated a stronger current of both flood and ebb than we had hitherto seen.

At half-past one, the Dolphin being again rendered sea-worthy, we prosecuted our voyage until five P.M., when the flood-tide set with such velocity round a rocky point, and brought so much ice with it, that we considered it prudent to put ashore. The violent eddies in the currents there, and the sudden approach and collision of the large masses of ice, reminded us forcibly of the poet's description of Scylla and Charybdis. The length of the day's voyage was twenty-one miles, and our encampment was situated in latitude 68 degrees 32 minutes N., longitude 113 degrees 53 minutes W. The temperature at nine P.M. was 60 degrees.

Mr. Kendall and I took a walk of some miles along the shore, and were happy to observe the coast inclining to the southward, although no doubt now existed as to our accomplishing the voyage sufficiently early to allow us to cross the barren grounds, to the eastward of Great Bear Lake, before the cold weather set in. The flowering season for most of the plants on the coast was already past, but our route for the remainder of the distance to Bear Lake, inclining much to the southward, would naturally have the effect of prolonging to us the duration of the summer. A conspicuous hill, discovered in our walk, received the name of Mount Barrow, in honour of John Barrow, Esq., Secretary to the Admiralty; and two islands in the offing were named after Commanders Bayfield and Douglas, of the Royal Navy, to both of whom the officers of the Expedition were indebted for much assistance and personal kindness, in their progress through Canada. The interior of the country was flat, but the limestone formed cliffs on the shore two hundred feet high. From the form of the islands, I was led to believe that they consisted of trap rocks. Wollaston Land, as seen from this encampment, appeared to recede gradually from the main, and it sunk under the horizon, on a north-east bearing. By estimation, the most easterly part of it which we saw, is in latitude 68 degrees 45 minutes N., and longitude 113 degrees 53 minutes W. The navigation of the Dolphin and Union Straits would be dangerous to ships, from the many sunken rocks which we observed near the southern shore.

By entering George the Fourth's Coronation Gulf at Cape Krusenstern, we connected the discoveries of this voyage with those made by Captain Franklin on his former expedition, and had the honour of completing a portion of the north-west passage, for which the reward of five thousand pounds was established by his Majesty's Order in Council, but as it was not contemplated, in framing the Order, that the discovery should be made from west to east, and in vessels so small as the Dolphin and Union, we could not lay claim to the pecuniary reward.

While the party were at breakfast I visited Mount Barrow, which is a steep hill about three hundred feet high, surrounded by a moat fifty or sixty feet wide and twenty deep, and having a flat summit bounded by precipices of limestone. Three banks, like causeways, afforded the means of crossing the moat, and the hill altogether formed a remarkably complete natural fortification. The Esquimaux had marked most of the prominent points in this quarter, by erecting piles of stones similar to the cairns built for land-marks by the shepherds in Scotland. These erections were occasionally noticed, after doubling Cape Parry, but they were more numerous here. The ice which we saw this day was in form of loose streams, and offered no material impediment. Several wreaths of snow lay at the base of the cliffs that had a northern exposure, being the remains of that which had accumulated in the winter.

The latitude 68 degrees 13 minutes N. was observed at noon on a low point which projected from some higher lands. From this point, which was named after Edward H. Locker, Esq., Secretary to the Royal Hospital at Greenwich, we had a view of Cape Hearne, the form of which I thought I recognised from my recollections of it on the former voyage. We reached Cape Hearne in the evening, having in the afternoon skirted a low and indented coast; a bay immediately to the north of it was named after Captain Basil Hall, of the Royal Navy. Cape Hearne itself is a low point, not visible from the mouth of the Coppermine; but the high land behind it, when seen from a distance, appears like a steep promontory, and is that designated as Cape Hearne in Captain Franklin's chart of his former voyage. The latitude of this cape is 68 degrees 11 minutes N., and its longitude 114 degrees 54 minutes W. The length of the day's voyage was forty miles. Many deer were seen here, and Ooligbuck killed a very fine one in the evening. After encamping I went a few miles into the interior, and found that the country was composed of limestone, which rose by a succession of terraces to the height of about three hundred feet above the sea. The heat of the day was considerable, the thermometer, when exposed to the rays of the sun, indicating 86 degrees, without the bulb being blackened, or any other means used to retain the heat.

Re-embarking, we steered for the mouth of the Coppermine River with the sails set to a fine breeze, plying the oars at the same time, and on rounding Cape Kendall, we opened a magnificent inlet, or bay, rendered very picturesque by the manner in which its lofty cliffs came successively in sight as we crossed its mouth. We distinguished it by the name of our mutual friend and companion Captain Back. One of Couper's Islands, on which we landed, consists of greenstone, rising from the water like steps of a stair; and from its summit we perceived that a low piece of land, which, on the former voyage, had been mistaken for an island, was, in fact, the extremity of Point Mackenzie, and that Richardson River was merely a ravine, now dry. Having reached the mouth of the Coppermine River, we encamped within a hundred yards of the position of the tents on Captain Franklin's former Expedition. Some half-burnt wood, the remains of the fires then made, were still lying on the spot; and I also recognised the Esquimaux stage, which we visited on that occasion, but there were no skins nor utensils on it now.

The completion of our sea voyage so early in the season was a subject of mutual congratulation to us all; and to Mr. Kendall and myself it was highly gratifying to behold our men still fresh and vigorous, and ready to commence the laborious march across the barren grounds, with the same spirit that they had shown in overcoming the obstacles which presented themselves to their progress by sea. We all felt that the comfort and ease with which the voyage had been performed, were greatly owing to the judicious and plentiful provision of stores and food which Captain Franklin had made for us; and gratitude for his care mingling with the pleasure excited by our success, and directing our thoughts more strongly to his party, the most ardent wishes were expressed that they might prove equally fortunate. The correctness of Mr. Kendall's reckoning was another source of pleasure. Having been deprived of the aid of chronometers, by the breaking of the two intended for the eastern detachment of the Expedition, during the intense winter cold, our only resource for correcting the dead reckoning was lunar observations, made as frequently as opportunities offered; yet when we approached the Coppermine River, Mr. Kendall's reckoning differed from the position of that place, ascertained on Captain Franklin's former Expedition, only twenty seconds of time, or about two miles and a half of distance, which is a very trifling difference when the length of the voyage and the other circumstances are taken into consideration. The distance between Point Separation and the mouth of the Coppermine River, by the route we pursued, is nine hundred and two geographical miles.

In our progress along the coast no opportunity was omitted of noting the times of high-water, and a tide-table drawn up by Mr. Kendall, is given in pages 236, 237. We nowhere observed the rise of the tide to exceed twenty-two inches, and in some places it was not more than eight or nine; but the velocity of the flood and ebb was greater than could have been expected from so small a rise. Off the Alluvial Islands, lying between the outlets of the Mackenzie River and Esquimaux Lake, it was in the strength of the flood about a mile an hour; at Cape Bathurst it exceeded a mile and a half; and in the Dolphin and Union Straits it was fully three miles. The stream of the flood set every where from the eastward.

The variation of the magnetic needle, which was forty-six degrees easterly at Point Separation, attained to 50 degrees at Refuge Cove, 53 degrees at Point Maitland, and 56 degrees at Cape Parry; after which it gradually decreased as we went to the south-east; and at the mouth of the Coppermine, it was 48 degrees.

We saw no ice that would have much impeded a ship, except between Sir George Clerk's Island and Cape Bexley, where it was heavy and closely packed. The appearance, however, of lanes of open water towards Wollaston Land, opposite to Cape Bexley, induced us to think that there might be a good passage for a ship on the outside of the ice, which lined the south shore, and which seems to have been packed into the indentations of the coast by the strong north-west winds that had prevailed for some days. A ship would find shelter amongst the islands of George the Fourth's Coronation Gulf, in Back's Inlet, in Darnley Bay, and amongst Booth's Islands, lying off Cape Parry; but the bottom, at the latter place, is rocky, and there are many sunken rocks along the whole of that coast. To the westward of Cape Parry, we saw no ship harbours, and the many sand-banks skirting the outlets of Esquimaux Lake would render it dangerous for a ship to approach the shore in that quarter. There is such an abundance of drift-timber on almost every part of the coast, that a sufficient supply of fuel for a ship might easily be collected, and wherever we landed on the main shore we found streams or small lakes of fresh water. Should the course of events ever introduce a steam-vessel into those seas, it may be important to know that in coasting the shores between Cape Bathurst and the Mackenzie, fire-wood sufficient for her daily consumption may be gathered, and that near the Babbage River, to the westward of the Mackenzie, a tertiary pitch-coal exists of excellent quality, which Captain Franklin describes as forming extensive beds.

The height to which the drift-timber is thrown up on the shores at the western entrance of the Dolphin and Union Straits is, I think, an indication of an occasional great rise in the sea, which, as the tides are in comparison so insignificant, I can ascribe only to the north-west winds driving the waters of an open sea towards the funnel-shaped entrance of the straits. If this view is correct, Wollaston Land probably extends far to the north, and closely adjoins to Banks' Land, or is connected with it. Captain Parry found the strait between Melville Island and Banks' Land obstructed by ice, and this will naturally be generally the case, both there and in the Dolphin and Union Straits, if they form the principal openings through a range of extensive islands, which run north and south, and bound a large tract of sea, comparatively free from land. The heat of the summer in that quarter seems to be always or almost always sufficient to admit of the ice breaking up, but not powerful enough to dissolve it entirely. Hence the loose ice driven about by the winds, and carried to the lee-side of the wider expanses of sea, is firmly packed in the narrow straits and winding passages amongst the islands, from whence it can be dislodged only by a concurrence of very favourable circumstances, and where the waste by the solar rays is replaced by every breeze blowing from the open sea. The north-west winds being the strongest and most prevalent in the latter part of the summer, it is at the western end of a strait that the ice is most frequently and closely packed. Captain Parry remarks that "there was something peculiar about the south-west extremity of Melville Island, which made the icy sea there extremely unfavourable to navigation, and which seemed to bid defiance to all efforts to proceed farther to the westward in that parallel of latitude." The Dolphin and Union Straits hold out greater prospects of success for a similar attempt, not only from their more southern position, but from the strong current of flood and ebb which flows through them and keeps the ice in motion.

We noticed on the coast about one hundred and seventy phaenogamous, or flowering plants, being one-fifth of the number of species which exist fifteen degrees of latitude farther to the southward. The grasses, bents, and rushes, constitute only one-fifth of the number of species on the coast, but the two former tribes actually cover more ground than all the rest of the vegetation. The cruciferous, or cress-like tribes afford one-seventh of the species, and the compound flowers are nearly as numerous. The shrubby plants that reach the sea-coast are the common juniper, two species of willow, the dwarf Birch (betula glandulosa), the common alder, the hippophae, a gooseberry, the red bearberry (arbutus uva ursi), the Labrador tea plant, (ledum palustre,) the Lapland rose (rhododendron lapponicum,) the bog whortleberry (vaccinium uliginosum,) and the crow-berry (empetrum nigrum.) The kidney-leaved oxyria grows in great luxuriance there, and occasionally furnished us with an agreeable addition to our meals, as it resembles the garden sorrel in flavour, but is more juicy and tender. It is eaten by the natives, and must, as well as many of the cress-like plants, prove an excellent corrective of the gross, oily, rancid, and frequently putrid meat, on which they subsist. The small bulbs of the Alpine bistort (polygonum viviparum,) and the long, succulent, and sweet roots of many of the astragaleae, which grow on the sandy shores, are eatable; but we did not learn that the Esquimaux were acquainted with their use. A few clumps of white spruce-fir, with some straggling black spruces and canoe birches, grow at the distance of twenty or thirty miles from the sea, in sheltered situations, on the banks of rivers.

ABSTRACT of the Meteorological Register, kept by the Eastern Detachment, in their Voyage between the Mouths of the Mackenzie and Coppermine Rivers.

Temperature in the Shade. Highest. Direction of Date. Lowest. Mean. the Winds. Weather and Remarks. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- July 9 32 38 35 East; NEbE. Fresh breezes. Clear sky with fog over the ice. 10 45 57 51 ESE. Strong breezes, clear weather. 11 42 51 43 East. Strong breezes, clear sky, and bright sun. 12 45 50 47 Do. Ditto, ditto. 13 46 57 52 East; SE. Moderate breezes. Clear sky; rain in the night. 14 42 42 42 West. Heavy gales. Thick fog. 15 52 57 55 Nearly calm. Very fine weather. 16 38 55 47 South. Moderate breezes. Cloudy A.M., clear P.M. 17 50 62 54 West; North. Fog A.M. When wind veered to north cleared up. Temperature of sea 55 degrees. 18 45 56 50 South; East. Light airs A.M.; fresh breezes P.M.; calm in the night. 19 44 54 49 East; West. Fresh breezes and cloudy A.M. Four P.M. West wind and foggy weather. 20 46 50 48 NW., WNW. Foggy; fresh breezes A.M. Increased to a strong gale P.M. 21 42 48 46 WNW.; NW. Fresh breezes and foggy A.M. Fine and clear P.M. 22 45 47 46 South. Fresh breezes A.M. Fine weather P.M. 23 46 58 52 SW. Moderate and cloudy. Many Musquitoes.

Meteorological Register, &c.--Concluded.

Temperature in the Shade. Highest. Direction of Date. Lowest. Mean. the Winds. Weather and Remarks. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- July 24 50 76 66 West. Moderate breezes. Foggy A.M. Occasionally hazy P.M. Myriads of Musquitoes. 25 45 66 55 South; NE. Fine A.M. Strong gales and partial fogs P.M. 26 35 47 41 NE. Strong gales and clear. Temperature of sea 35 deg. 27 35 45 40 ENE. Moderate. 28 35 50 42 Calm; North. Fine clear weather. 29 37 41 38 WNW. Moderate breezes; foggy. 30 36 40 38 WNW. Fog hanging over the ice; clear inland; moderate breezes. 31 38 45 41 NW. Moderate breezes; occasionally hazy, fog over the ice. Aug. 1 43 50 48 West. Moderate breezes; hazy to seaward. 2 34 50 41 West; variable. Hazy and occasionally foggy. 3 38 43 40 NE.; East. Light breezes and clear. 4 38 55 46 NE.; ESE. Fine clear weather. 5 39 56 47 EbS.; WSW. Do. Moderate P.M. 6 42 56 47 South; variable. Do. 7 36 68 52 SSE. Fine and very clear. Temperature in the sun 86 deg. 8 44 60 52 North. Do. ----------------- 41.45 51.92 46.48

FOOTNOTES:

The appearance of whales on the north coast, nearly midway between the nearest passages into Behring's and Barrow's Straits, and upwards of a thousand miles distant from either, affords subject for interesting speculation. It is known that they must come frequently to the surface to breathe, and the following questions naturally arise:--Are there at all seasons large spaces of open water in the Arctic Seas? or do these animals travel from the Atlantic or Pacific Oceans immediately on the breaking up of the ice off Cape Bathurst, and so early in the season as the middle of July; while the sea, to the eastward and westward, is still covered with ice? if the latter is the fact, it is a very curious part of the natural history of these animals. The Esquimaux informed us, that they are rarely seen when the ice lies close, and in accordance with this remark Captain Franklin saw few to the westward, and we also lost them as we approached the Coppermine River, and met with more ice.

Since the above passage was written, the world has had to mourn the loss of this distinguished statesman and philosopher.

Its latitude was ascertained by meridional observations to be 68 degrees 58 minutes N.

Captain Franklin has since transferred the name of Richardson to the Bay between Point Mackenzie and the mouth of the Coppermine River.

PROCEEDINGS OF THE EASTERN DETACHMENT CONCLUDED.