an ice-house with our knives for shelter. Mr. Bellot sat for half an hour in conversation with us, talking on the danger of our position. I told him I was not afraid, and that the American expedition was driven up and down this channel by the ice. He replied, I know they were; and when the Lord heads shall be touched.'

6

protects us, not a hair of our

"I then asked Mr. Bellot what time it was. He said, About quarter past eight A. M.' (Thursday, the 18th), and then lashed up his books, and said he would go and see how the ice was driving. He had only been gone about four minutes, when I went round the same hummock under which we were sheltered to look for him, but could not see him; and, on returning to our shelter, saw his stick on the opposite side of a crack, about five fathoms wide, and the ice all breaking up. I then called out Mr. Bellot!' but no answer -(at this time blowing very heavy). After this, I again searched round, but could see nothing of him.

“I believe that when he got from the shelter the wind blew him into the crack, and, his south-wester being tied down, he could not rise. Finding there was no hope of again seeing Lieut. Bellot, I said to Hook, 'I'm not afraid: I know the Lord will always sustain us.' We commenced travelling, to try to get to Cape De Haven, or Port Phillips; and, when we got within two miles of Cape De Haven, could not get on shore; and returned for this side, endeavoring to get to the southward, as the ice was driving to the northward. We were that night and the following day in coming across, and came into the land on the eastern shore a long way to the northward of the place where we were driven off. We got into the land at what Lieut. Bellot told us was Point Hogarth.

"In drifting up the straits towards the Polar Sea, we

saw an iceberg lying close to the shore, and found it on the ground. We succeeded in getting on it, and remained for six hours. I said to David Hook, 'Don't be afraid; we must make a boat of a piece of ice.' Accordingly, we got on to a piece passing, and I had a paddle belonging to the India-rubber boat.

By this piece of drift-ice we managed to reach the shore, and then proceeded to where the accident happened. Reached it on Friday. Could not find our shipmates, or any provisions. Went on for Cape Bowden, and

reached it on Friday night."

When the Esquimaux heard of Bellot's death, they shed tears, and cried "Poor Bellot! poor Bellot! Two years before, he had seen an Esquimaux dragging himself painfully over the ice, with a broken leg. To call the carpenter, give him directions to make a wooden leg for the poor fellow, and to teach him to walk with it, were matters of course for the generous young Frenchman; but they were unusual kindnesses for a white man to show to an Esquimaux, and the simple-hearted people remembered it when they cried "Poor Bellot!"

Poor Bellot!—his was a brave, a generous, and a kindly heart. His talents and energy were deeply appreciated by the nation to which he had volunteered his services; and his affectionate, manly disposition had endeared him to the comrades with whom he had spent so many stormy days and nights in the regions. of ice and snow. The howling blast of the north, and the dark waters of the polar seas, are sweeping over his mortal frame; but an imperishable wreath a tribute of gratitude and affection, twined by the hands. of France and England - shall rest upon his brow for

ever.

Mr. Bellot is another added to the list of those brave, enthusiastic spirits, that have been thus prematurely

snatched away, and wrapt in the cold embrace of the Arctic seas. The English have expressed their sense. of his services and his virtues by a subscription for his family, and for a monument to be erected to his memory in Greenwich Hospital.

Capt. Inglefield, in his steamer the Phoenix, accompanied by the sailing-vessel Talbot, was sent to the Arctic regions again in 1854, with dispatches and supplies for Sir E. Belcher. There we shall hear of him again in the course of our narrative.

CHAPTER XVIII.

THE RESOLUTE AND INTREPID. BESET AGAIN. WINTER IN THE PACK. BOTH VESSELS ABANDONED.—BELCHER'S EXPLORATIONS. REMAINS OF STRUCTURES. · ATTEMPT TO REACH BEECHEY ISLAND. ·ABANDONMENT OF THE ASSISTANCE AND PIONEER. ALL PARTIES ASSEMBLE AT BEECHEY ISLAND. ARRIVAL OF THE PHŒNIX AND TALBOT. RETURN ΤΟ ENGLAND. OUTWARD VOYAGE OF THE PHOENIX. COLLINSON'S VOYAGE. RAE'S EXPEDITION. -RELICS OF FRANKLIN. ANDERSON'S

JOURNEY.

The

THE Resolute and Intrepid, with their inmates, including the sixty men from the Investigator, remained icebound at Dealy Island during the best part of the summer of 1853. At last, on the 18th of August, a strong gale blowing off shore broke up the ice. vessels at once got under way; by night they were at sea, and the navigators congratulated themselves that they were now fairly making progress towards home. But within twenty-four hours they were brought up by the pack of Byam Martin Channel; and there they lay watching for an opening to dash across to Bathurst Land, and run for Beechey Island under its lee.

Day after day passed. The drifting pack presented no available opening. Winter was fast advancing. The prospect of escape before another season began to look gloomy. Still, the navigators did not abandon the hope; but they occupied themselves in securing game, as a provision against the coming winter. This they found in abundance, especially musk-oxen; and some ten thousand pounds were obtained and frozen. An attempt was finally made to force through the pack;

but on the 9th of September the vessels became firmly imbedded in the newly-formed ice, and, a north-west gale forcing the pack upon them, they were fairly beset, and obliged to go whither it and Providence listed.

Two months they were drifting helplessly, amidst great perils. Right pleased was Kellett to find that after the 12th of November the ships were at rest, having reached a point about due east of Winter Harbor, Melville Island, in longitude 101° west, an admirable position for an early escape in the ensuing season. Here they passed the winter of 1853-4, -long months of darkness and weariness, but with no worse mishap than the loss of one officer, who died on the 14th of November.

The log-book of that winter is a curious record; the ingenuity of the officer in charge was well tasked to make one day differ from another. Each day has the first entry for "ship's position" thus: "In the floe off Cape Cockburn;" and the blank for the second entry thus: "in the same position." Lectures, theatricals, schools, etc., whiled away the time.

The spring of 1854 arrived. M'Clure and his crew started with sledges on the 14th of April for Beechey Island, to find a resting-place on board the North Star and at the dépôt. Kellett made arrangements to continue the search. While thus engaged, he received a letter from Sir Edward Belcher, suggesting that, rather than risk the detention of another season, he should abandon his ships and meet him (Belcher) at Beechey Island before the 26th of August. Kellett remonstrated, stating that the vessels were in a favorable position for escape; that they had abundance of provisions, and that parties concerned in deserting ships under such circumstances "would deserve to have the jackets taken off their backs." Then came a positive