After AH-NI-GHI´-TO’S father returned, the time fairly flew.

Ahn?oodloo and Billy Bah were among the Eskimos who returned with AH-NI-GHI´-TO’S father, and they now joined AH-NI-GHI´-TO and Koodluk´too in their play.

AH-NI-GHI´-TO’S father said he would not return home this summer, but would remain another year and once more try to reach the North Pole.

During all the long winter months, while AH-NI-GHI´-TO’S home had been on the “Windward,” the old ship had been as steady as a house on shore, for she was held firmly by the ice and could not move. But on June 7th, while AH-NI-GHI´-TO was at dinner with her parents, they were surprised to hear a loud creaking noise and at the same time feel the ship quiver and then roll slightly from side to side.

“We are free,” said AH-NI-GHI´-TO’S father; “the old ‘Windward’ has broken out of her winter berth and longs to be off again.” Everybody rushed on deck, and surely enough the old ship was afloat once more.

But the ice had only melted away from her sides, leaving her without a support. Nowhere else did it seem inclined to break away, so that while the “Windward” was afloat she was still a prisoner in the ice.

By the middle of June the sea ice was covered with pools of water, and it was no easy task to get ashore from the ship without getting the feet wet. Snow buntings (our snowbirds) were flitting about the rocks, and small tufts of green grass were to be seen here and there.

The Eskimos harpooned some narwhal out at the edge of the ice, and AH-NI-GHI´-TO is perhaps the only little white girl who ever saw these strange Arctic sea animals, with their long white ivory horns and huge tails.

It was now decided to help free the ship by having the men saw a road through the ice to the open water beyond.

Saws eight and ten feet long were used, and for weeks the sawing went on.

Sometimes a bottle filled with gunpowder was let down under the ice through a hole that had been drilled, and the long fuse that had been fastened to it was lighted. When the fire reached the powder it exploded; but although it cracked the ice for a little distance, very little was broken off.

During this time AH-NI-GHI´-TO was over on the island with Koodluk´too and Billy Bah every day, gathering eggs, which were plentiful now.

The ducks lay their eggs on the ledges of the rocks, in nests made of the down which they pluck from their breasts.

As hundreds of the birds had their nests on this island, it was not necessary to take the eggs from the same nest twice, and this left enough eggs for the birds to breed.

One day a great windstorm swept down from the north and broke off all the ice which had been cracked by the blasting and carried it out of the harbour. Only a small pan of one-year-old ice was left between the ship and the open water.

The fires were started under the boiler, and with the help of the saws and the steam, the ship soon pushed out the remaining ice, and on July 3rd, with every living creature in the settlement on board (not forgetting about seventy-five dogs), the “Windward” steamed out of the little harbour where she had been lying for ten months, and reached Littleton Island on the opposite shore that evening.

The next day was Fourth of July, and it was decided to have a holiday.

The ship was dressed in her flags, and all who wanted to go went shooting birds or hunting walrus.

AH-NI-GHI´-TO did neither of these things, but she had a happy day and in her diary tells about it:

“July 4, 1901.—A beautiful day. Warm, bright, and sunshiny. The Eskimo men and most of the sailors went out after breakfast to see what they could find, and came in at four o’clock with one hundred and twenty-five ducks, three barrels of eggs, and two walrus. The eggs will be packed away for father’s use in the fall. Mother, father, Percy, and I have been ashore gathering flowers and playing tag and having a fine old-time. Dinner at five o’clock, and then I heard mother and father planning to walk across the country to Etah while Captain Sam took the ‘Windward’ around there. I coaxed them to let me go with them. Mother said I could not walk it because there would be so much climbing to do, but father said, ‘Let her try it. I believe she can do it.’ At half-past seven father had two of the sailors put us ashore and with our kapetahs (fox-skin coats) over our arms we started off. Over the rocks we went—up one side, down the other side, of the cliffs. In some places my feet went into the wet moss above my ankles. The steep, hard snowbanks gave me lots of tumbles. In one place we had to climb around the high steep walls of a cliff with the icy water dashing against them twelve feet below. Father said it was about twelve feet, but I thought it was twenty-five. If I had fallen I should have had the coldest bath I ever had. We had to wade through some of the shallow brooks, and they were cold enough for me. I was very tired, but I had made up my mind not to say a word about it. It took us two hours, and father said we had walked about six miles; but we beat the ‘Windward,’ for when we got to the Igloos at Etah, she was just coming round the point, and that pleased me, for now I could tease Captain Sam. As soon as the ‘Windward’ got in, mother and I went on board, and mother rubbed me down, gave me a cup of cocoa, and put me to bed, too tired to write up my diary; but I wrote it up this morning so the home folks will know what I did on the glorious Fourth.”