Squalls of snow delayed us until the afternoon of the 13th, when we steamed westward along the north side of Digges islands. A bear was seen climbing over the cliffs, and a boat was lowered in chase, but the animal escaped. In the evening, the course was changed to northward, up Fox channel. At daylight the next morning ice was met with some ten miles from Leyson point. Steaming slowly through it, Seahorse point, on Southampton island, was reached at noon, and a landing was made with the launch. During the absence of the launch, the ship was sent out into the ice to the northeast, in order to examine its condition. It was found to be in large cakes of heavy rafted ice, too solid to penetrate at such a late date.

Seahorse point is at the junction of the granites and gneisses with the Silurian limestones. There is here a marked difference between the southern limestone area and the northern country, underlain by the crystalline rocks, with its typical long, low, rounded hills, lying in roughly parallel ridges, and separated by wide shallow valleys, dotted with lakes and ponds, or filled with coarse boulder clay, with boulders scattered in bewildering profusion everywhere. This land, although high by contrast with the limestone country, seldom reaches an elevation of 500 feet, and that only far inland. There is one conspicuous peak, which rises like a great sugar loaf, far inland, its snow-capped summit of the lightest blue.

The limestone country occupies all the southern part of this great island, and also underlies the large islands of Coats and Mansfield farther to the south. The same physical characteristics prevail wherever the limestone is found. The low shores are bounded by gradually deepening water, broken by dangerous reefs that extend several miles from the land. The country rises very slowly inland, from the shores, in a succession of low, broad terraces, each a few feet higher than the one in front. These terraces are covered to a depth of several feet by broken limestone, which affords perfect drainage, and in consequence the surface is so dry that it will not even support a covering of the hardy Arctic plants. This absence of vegetation leaves the monotonous light-yellow shingle quite unrelieved by any dash of other colour, and the general view is one of dry desolation, much worse than that of the hilly country. The limestone region never reaches an elevation of one hundred feet within walking distance of the shore.

The ship lay-to during the night, among scattered pans of ice, about five miles from the land, and in forty fathoms of water. Late in the evening two walruses were killed on ice pans close to the ship.

A return to the southward was made at daylight, and the ice was finally left after passing Leyson point. During the passage through the ice, in the early morning, hundreds of walrus were seen asleep on the floating pans, and were left undisturbed. Skirting the low shores of the so-called Bell island, Evans strait was entered, and, late in the afternoon, we passed close to Walrus island in Fisher strait. This island is composed of crystalline rocks, and although not very high, it is conspicuous in contrast to the low shores on both sides of the strait. The island is much smaller than shown on the chart, and is only one island, not two, as marked there.

While passing through Evans and Fisher straits, soundings were taken every five miles. The bottom was found to be very even, and covered with fine sand or limestone debris. During the day the low shores of Southampton were in sight, without any feature sufficiently marked to afford a triangulation point.

The absence of ice in any part of Fisher strait led to the belief that no channel existed between Bell island and Southampton. This has since been confirmed by the captains of the Era and Active, both having narrowly escaped trouble in trying to pass through this supposed channel, which, if it does exist, is very shallow and narrow, even at high tide, and is so obstructed with shoals as to be absolutely dangerous.

During the night of the 15th we passed the western entrance of Fisher strait, and turned northward, up the west coast of Southampton. Frequent soundings, taken as the ship passed over, or very close to, the position of Tom island on the chart, gave no indications of it.

This island was placed on the chart, on the authority of Captain Lyon, but nobody has since seen it.

The 16th was thick and foggy, so that when the distance to Cape Fullerton had been run down in the evening, and the water had shoaled to twenty-five fathoms, the ship lay-to for the night. In the morning, standing to the westward, breakers were seen at nine o’clock; shortly after, several low islands were passed, and at noon the launch was sent ahead to sound the way into a long bay, which subsequently proved to be Winchester inlet. A good harbour, sheltered by islands, was found on the east side of the bay, and about three miles from its mouth, where the anchor was dropped at six o’clock in the evening.

The country surrounding Winchester inlet is very similar to that bounding the whole of the northwestern part of Hudson bay. The country is underlain by ArchÆan crystalline rocks, and has all the physical characteristics common to similar areas in the south. Long, gently rounded hills, of slight elevation, form the higher grounds, with wide, shallow valleys between them. The whole has been intensely glaciated, and the abrasion of the great ice-cap has reduced the general surface to as near a level surface as is possible, considering the varying resisting properties of the different rocks found here.

There is no soil upon the rocky hills, while that of the valleys is largely boulder clay, in which the coarser material predominates, leaving little room for the growth of Arctic vegetation upon the finer materials of the soil. Boulders scattered in profusion over the rocky hills give to the latter a peculiar ragged appearance. Lakes and ponds dot the valleys, and much of the land surrounding these is low and swampy.

The shores of the bay are low, and are masked, in most places, by a wide fringe of low rocky islands, while beyond the islands the danger zone is continued several miles seaward by a labyrinth of sunken reefs. The bottom of the bay, beyond these reefs, continues very uneven, so that in the portion between Winchester and Chesterfield inlets there is danger of a ship grounding, when beyond the sight of the low shores. The proximity to the magnetic pole accounts for the sluggishness of the compass in these waters, where no reliance can be placed on it. This, with the uncharted, low coast, bare of prominent landmarks, renders the approach to any of the harbours uncertain and dangerous.

Inland from the shores the country rises slowly; indeed, the general elevation does not increase towards the interior above ten feet a mile, while along the shores there are no hills more than fifty feet high.

Our instructions were to find, and, if possible, to pass the winter in company with the American whaling ship known to be in Hudson bay. The whalers formerly wintered at Marble island, or at Depot island; the former is to the southward of the mouth of Chesterfield inlet, the latter close to the entrance of Winchester inlet. Marble island has long been abandoned, chiefly on account of its insufficient water supply. Within the last few years a more convenient harbour was found close to Cape Fullerton, and the large launch was fitted out to search for it, the Era not being in the harbour at Depot island.

A strong gale lasted from the 18th to the 22nd, and we were very lucky to be in such a good harbour. While awaiting an abatement of the gale, several Eskimos came overland to the ship, and were taken aboard. They were from Cape Fullerton, and were going inland from Winchester inlet to kill barren-ground caribou for their winter clothing. They had seen the ship as she passed, but could not reach us with their whaleboats owing to the gale. We learned from them that the Era was already in winter quarters at Fullerton. This information rendered the proposed trip in the launch useless, and it was therefore determined to send her up Chesterfield inlet, as the only place where a sufficient supply of deerskins for our winter clothing could be procured from the natives. The services of an old Eskimo, named Scotty, were secured as pilot for the launch, while another, Gilbert, consented to pilot the ship to Fullerton harbour.

The crew of the launch consisted of the second mate, third engineer, a fireman, sailor, the interpreter, Scotty and myself. We left the ship early on the morning of the 23rd, and the launch behaved admirably in the heavy head sea raised by the recent gale. A southerly course was followed, past Depot island, but the numerous shoals gradually forced us away from the mainland, so that the boat was ten miles from the mainland at the mouth of Chesterfield inlet, and even at that distance considerable difficulty was experienced in keeping clear of the shoals. They were eventually passed without mishap, and the course was changed to westward along the south side of Promise island, and then along that of the inlet, so that by dark we were fifty miles above its mouth. After steaming twenty miles farther, on the following morning the lower Eskimo settlement was reached, situated on a large bay on the north side of the inlet. All the men were absent hunting deer, and although there were many skins about the encampment, the women would not part with them without the permission of the men. The latter were not expected back until the next evening, so it was determined to continue on to the upper encampment, located thirty miles above the lower, on the southern channel, past Bowell island, where the inlet discharges from Baker lake. This encampment was reached early in the afternoon, and the absent hunters were signalled for with smoke. They arrived about two hours after us, and a lively barter was kept up until after dark, upwards of fifty skins and a considerable quantity of meat being purchased for powder, tobacco, knives and files. Four tents of Eskimos were at this place, which is a noted crossing of the deer in their annual migrations to the north and south. Great numbers had already been killed, and half-putrid heads were scattered in all directions about the tents.

Early next morning the launch was headed east, and, assisted by a strong tide, soon reached the lower encampment. The men were still absent, and did not return until the following morning, when we secured about as many skins and as much meat as at the upper camp. Leaving early in the afternoon, we continued down the inlet; at dark, the pilot became confused amongst the many islands off Dangerous point, and advised anchoring until daylight. An anchor watch was set, and the remainder of the crew went to sleep, to be awakened at midnight by the startling news that the launch was aground and the tide still falling. Efforts were immediately made to float her, but without avail. She soon fell over on her side, when the water rushed in, partly filling her. Some of the crew were then set to ferrying the cargo to a neighbouring island, while the rest bailed out the water and endeavoured to keep it out as the tide rose again, but without success, so the energies of all were devoted to saving everything possible. Many things were lost during the hurry and darkness, and daylight came to a cold and forlorn party stranded on a small island. Arrangements were made, during the morning, to erect the boat mast as a Spanish windlass, and with the assistance of the small boat to raise the launch upright with the next rising tide. Unfortunately the tide did not fall low enough to free the boat of water, or to permit a fair trial of our improvised tackle. The ponds of fresh water were already frozen over, and the weather was becoming cold and boisterous; not a day, therefore, could be lost in sending the twelve-foot dinghy to Fullerton for assistance. The energies of the party were now devoted to transferring the goods and cargo from the island to the mainland, about a mile distant, as it would not do to leave the party on an island without means of reaching the shores of the inlet. This work continued until dark, when, after a hurried meal, Wells, Ford and Scotty were sent off in the dinghy, with instructions to reach the Neptune as soon as possible; the remainder of the party, wrapped in their blankets, laid down for a deserved rest. The following days were spent in drying and cleaning the skins and other articles saved from the wreck, and in hunting and fishing, neither of which was successful.

During these days the weather became cold, and several inches of snow fell, which added to the discomfort of our temporary shelter. Early on the afternoon of the 3rd of October the smoke of the Neptune was seen far down the inlet, and she came to anchor at dark in a harbour about ten miles to the east of the camp. Captain Comer, of the Era, in one of his whaleboats manned by natives was the first to arrive the next morning, and was followed later by three of the ship’s boats. Ropes were fastened to the launch and boats, and as the tide rose the wreck was lifted from the bottom and buoyed into shoaler water alongside the island, where it was left until the next tide. Leaving sufficient men to continue the work, Captain Bartlett and the writer started in the whaleboat, double-manned, for the ship late in the afternoon. We had gone only a short distance when a heavy snowstorm came on. We continued rowing in this very thick weather until ten o’clock, when, within a couple of miles of the ship, we were obliged to stop owing to the intense darkness. We landed on a small island and made a partial shelter from the storm by placing the boat sail against a low cliff. The quarters were so small that all were obliged to stand, and so the night was passed. Next morning it took two hours to dig the sail from under the snow, after which we resumed our journey to the ship and only reached it by the help of a long line attached to a keg, paid out to us from the ship, which was reached at eleven o’clock, after an exciting and exhausting twenty-four hours.

The crew of the dinghy had made excellent time on their trip to Fullerton to seek relief. The first night they made only a few miles, being very tired and having a strong tide against them. The next day the mouth of the inlet was reached; the night following they slept at Depot island. Next day with a fair wind and heavy sea they arrived close to Fullerton, and reached the ship the following morning. The Neptune started to our relief that afternoon, and anchored for the night off Depot island, Captain Comer, who had kindly volunteered, acting as pilot. The next day, when out of sight of land, on the north side of the entrance to Chesterfield inlet, the ship struck twice, and was in shallow water all the way to Promise island, after which the water of the inlet was found to be uniformly deep.

The gale in which we reached the ship continued for three days. On the evening of the 3rd of October the men with the boats returned to the ship, and reported having had a very rough time of it, in the makeshift camp there. On the 8th the ship steamed up the inlet and anchored close to the sunken launch. Efforts to bring her alongside the ship were immediately undertaken, and next morning she was successfully hoisted aboard. In the afternoon we started down the inlet, and anchored for the night a few miles above Promise island. On the 10th a heavy gale blew from the westward, accompanied by frequent, thick snow squalls. The anchor was raised at daylight on the morning following, when, keeping well to the southward of the shoals beyond the mouth of the inlet, we arrived safely at Fullerton at dusk that evening.

The Neptune had safely arrived at Fullerton harbour on the 23rd September, and had dropped anchor close alongside the Era. Major Moodie, after looking over the ground, decided to erect a Police Post on the large island at the rear of the harbour. The lumber for the building was immediately landed, and before the ship left for Chesterfield inlet the frame of the dwelling had been erected and its sides partly boarded.

The harbour of Fullerton is formed by a number of small islands, situated on the east side at the mouth of a long bay, and about five miles from Cape Fullerton, at the entrance to Roes Welcome. The harbour is quite small, with room for about three ships, and is fully protected by the islands and reefs surrounding it. The usual entrance is from the westward, where the channel is not above fifty yards wide, and the water at high tide is only five fathoms deep. The eastern entrance is narrower, and a ship is obliged to make several sharp turns when passing through it. Owing to the low even coast, without any landmark in the vicinity, the position of the harbour is difficult to locate without entering the wide danger-zone of shoals. The wide fringe of islands to the westward practically ends at Fullerton, so that a ship making the coast may know the position by the presence or absence of islands; but as the islands are very low it is hard to distinguish them from the mainland at a safe distance away, as the shoals and reefs extend more than five miles beyond the harbour. The surveys made in the spring of 1904 show that a fairly safe channel will be found by keeping well to the eastward of the harbour, and by then following a northwest course, keeping in line the beacons on a small island about a mile outside the harbour. When the Beacon island is reached the ship should pass in mid-channel between it and the adjoining island to the westward; passing these, the outer harbour island should be given a wide berth, until the entrance to the harbour is opened fully, a long shoal extending from the western point of the island.

On the return of the Neptune to Fullerton, immediate preparations were made for the coming winter. The first undertaking was the cutting of a large quantity of ice, from a fresh-water pond close to the house and about a mile distant from the ship. The ice was about nine inches thick, and one day’s work, by the entire crew, sufficed to cut and to store enough to supply the ship with fresh water until the ponds melted again in the spring. The detachment of Mounted Police, assisted by some of the crew of the Era, were busily engaged in finishing their house and shed. Floating ice soon hampered landing operations. On the 17th October the ice in the harbour set fast and, soon after, the work of transporting materials to and from the shore was done with sleds.

By the end of the month, the ship had been placed in a north-and-south position, so that her bow faced north into the prevailing cold winds. The decks were covered with a temporary roof, made from a part of the lumber intended for the police buildings. This housing kept the snow from the decks, and greatly increased the inclosed space on the ship. It later proved so comfortable that the carpenter worked in it, almost without interruption, throughout the winter, at the repairs to the launch. The house and shed were made weather-proof, and a supply of provisions and outfit, sufficient to keep the ship’s company until the following summer, was stored in them, as a precaution against the destruction of the ship by fire. The galley was moved from the deck to between-decks, and the range connected with two large copper tanks, in which the daily supply of ice was melted; at the same time all the provisions likely to be injured by frost were stored alongside the range. All the oil and powder were stored on an island away from the provisions, and the boats placed either on shore, or on the ice alongside the ship.

Shortly after our arrival the natives congregated about the ships, and to avoid misunderstanding, an agreement was made with Captain Comer, that he should care for the Aivillik tribe, while the Kenipitu tribe would belong to the Neptune. By this arrangement, about a dozen able-bodied men and their families fell to our portion, and about double that number to the Era. The men were employed, during our stay at Fullerton, in banking the ship with snow, hauling ice and other necessary outside work. Several of them hunted continuously, and at small cost kept the ship in fresh caribou meat throughout the winter. They received little pay beyond their food, which consisted chiefly of the scraps left from the meals.

Dr. Faribault had shown signs of mild insanity, almost from the time of leaving Halifax. On the 1st of November he became violently insane, when, on the advice of Dr. Borden, he was placed in charge of the police as a dangerous lunatic. The poor man had to be confined in a cell, and watched continuously. His condition became worse and worse, until he was happily released by death on the 27th of April following.

As soon as the ice became sufficiently thick to bear the load, a wall of snow about three feet thick was erected around the ship, and raised to the top of the temporary decking. Sails, spread on the roof, were covered with about a foot of snow. By these means all draughts were effectually kept out of the ship, and the temperature of the interior was raised several degrees. Holes were cut in the banking to allow light to enter the ports and windows, and snow porches were erected over the exits on each side; the deep holes at the ports resembled embrasures, and the general appearance of the ship was that of a floating fort.

When the labour for preparing for the winter was finished, the ordinary work about the ship was hardly enough to keep the crew in health, and all were encouraged to hunt or attend lines of fox-traps for exercise. This proved much better than formal exercise at stated times, and the general health remained good throughout this long period of enforced idleness.

Only two meals were cooked daily during the short days of mid-winter, breakfast being at ten and dinner at four, an informal supper being provided in the evening.

Games and cards were provided for the use of all; musical instruments, including a piano, were in frequent use, while a weekly lecture, dance and newspaper went far to agreeably pass away the long winter evenings, which were further relieved by visits between the ships, and to the snowhouses of the natives built on the ice close alongside.

On the night of the 11th of December a second sad occurrence happened. When everybody was busy preparing letters for the mail about to be sent to Churchill by a couple of Eskimos from Baker lake, James O’Connel, a cabin-boy of weak mind, left the ship to go to the snowhouses, and wandered away in a snowstorm, which commenced shortly after his departure. He had been in the habit of hiding behind the launch, or in other places about the decks, where he would remain for hours, and, in consequence, his absence was unnoticed by his mess mates until the following morning. Immediately upon the alarm being given, the crews of both ships and all the natives turned out and searched systematically, in all directions from the ship, but, owing to the blizzard, without success. The storm continued to rage during the next two days, so that it was only on the 15th that definite information concerning his fate was obtained by the natives, who traced his track in the snow to the open water in the southwest some three miles from the ship, where the poor fellow had gone before the strong wind. There is no doubt that death came quickly, and we were relieved of the thoughts of his possible sufferings had he continued to wander about the country and finally died of exhaustion and cold.

The short days of mid-winter and the excessive cold of the early spring practically rendered impossible any surveying or other outside scientific work until the month of April, when preparations were made for exploratory and surveying work. During the winter Mr. Crossman made a very efficient ice-boring machine, which worked admirably in making holes for sounding through the thick ice. Weather observations were taken five times daily during our stay at Fullerton, and these, together with the readings taken on the voyage, are printed in Appendix No. I., where also will be found a summary of the climatic conditions, prepared from the observations by Mr. Stupart, Superintendent of the Canadian Meteorological Service. A list giving the thickness, week by week, of the ice in the harbour, will also be found in that appendix, and is interesting as showing to what a late date the ice continues to increase, the maximum thickness of seventy-four inches having been obtained on the 25th April.