Viewing page 392 of 661

This transcription has been completed. Contact us with corrections.

(14
1861 Sept 11 Wedns
16 Enc 6th D 34 D

to let fly to the winds said Sail.  
As I said, I kept my eyes watching over the side of the boat - & [[underlined]] ahead [[/underlined]] as well I could.  I saw sights - enough to make "each particular hair stand on end" - & so did the 2 of my Company.  Every few moments as we flew past a rocky bottom that almost kissed our keel we would exchange looks one with another as if to say 'that was a glorious leap' - 'a fortunate escape for us!  A mile was made in this way when [[underlined]] all at once [[/underlined]] the Boat's bow mounted & unseen rock "bringing all up'astanding" & there she hung till the the tide made up sufficiently to ease us off.  The boat was turned Island ward again.  On this tack 1/2 minutes - another 'boat! & another grounding on boulders!  Another wait for rising tide.  Another tack Island-ward & try again!  It was astonishing what feats our craft accomplished.  It withstood the use of a "Battering Ram"!  Many a mark has been left upon the rocks, scattered here & there, over the bottom of the upper part of Frobisher Bay, made by this Old [[underlined]] Whale- [[/underlined]] worn Boat!
Finally we reached within 1/4 of a mile of Tupiks.  We began to feel already at Home

[[end page]]
[[start page]]

(15
1861 Sept 11 Wedns
16 Enc 6th D 34 D out

as if enfolded with the furs of Took-too.  But this 1/4 of mile was still [[underlined]] studed [[/underlined]] over with the black heads of boulders.  To make this distance required [[underlined]] tide- [[/underlined]] patience.  
As tide lifted we crowded our Boat along picking our way bet. rocks as well as approaching darkness would admit.  Every few moments "[[underlined]] "Butt"! [[/underlined]] - then await - then try again.  Not an uninteresting scene in my Voyage up here this night.  Voyaging mid-shoals, beating waves, the snow clad Mts looking down upon us - Kood-loo using the one oar - striking bottom at every stroke - Koo-jes-se with jib pole over the bow picking our way mid rocks - I standing enveloped in cloak ready to strike strong oar to right or left as the motion of Koo-jes-se might direct.  As we were making this 1/4 of a mile Koo-jes-se cried out: 'A bright light - Tak-koo?'  I asked him where?  He pointed to the S. a direction closed from my view