and fifty pounds of pemmican were lost in the twinkling of an eye.

Without comment Bennett at once addressed himself to making the best of
the business. The dogs were hauled upon the ice; the few loads that yet
remained upon the sled were transferred to another; that sled was
abandoned, and once more the expedition began its never-ending battle to
the southward.

The lanes of open water, as foreshadowed by the water-blinks that
Ferriss had noted in the morning, were frequent; alternating steadily
with hummocks and pressure-ridges. But the perversity of the ice was all
but heart-breaking. At every hour the lanes opened and closed. At one
time in the afternoon they had arrived upon the edge of a lane wide
enough to justify them in taking to their boats. The sledges were
unloaded, and stowed upon the boats themselves, and oars and sails made
ready. Then as Bennett was about to launch the lane suddenly closed up.
What had been water became a level floe, and again the process of
unloading and reloading had to be undertaken.

That evening Big Joe and two other dogs, Gavriga and Patsy, were shot
because of their uselessness in the traces. Their bodies were cut up to
feed their mates.

"I can spare the dogs," wrote Bennett in his journal for that
day--a Sunday--"but McPherson, one of the best men of the command,
gives me some uneasiness. His frozen footnips have chafed sores in
his ankle. One of these has ulcerated, and the doctor tells me is
in a serious condition. His pain is so great that he can no longer
haul with the others. Shall relieve him from work during the
morrow's march. Less than a mile covered to-day. Meridian