quite covered with water,
owing, probably, to the radiation of heat from the rocks. The weather
proved, indeed, intensely hot this day, the thermometer in the shade, at
the ships, being as high as 51 deg., and the land in this neighbourhood
preventing the access of wind from any quarter. The travelling being
good beyond this, we arrived within four or five miles of the head of
Quilliam Creek at ten P.M., where we pitched the tents for the night. In
this day's journey ten dogs had drawn my sledge a distance of forty
statute miles since the morning, the weight on the sledge being about
twelve hundred pounds, and half of the road very indifferent. It is the
custom of the Esquimaux, even when meat is most abundant, to feed these
invaluable animals only once a day, and that in the evening, which they
consider to agree with them better than more frequent meals; we always
observed the same practice with ours, and found that they performed
their journeys the better for it.

On the morning of the 25th, while passing close to a point of land,
Toolemak suddenly stopped his sledge, and he and his wife walked to the
shore, whither I immediately followed them. The old woman, preceding her
husband, went up to a circle of stones, of which there were two or three
on the spot, and, kneeling down within it, cried most loudly and
bitterly for the space of two or three minutes, while Toolemak also shed
abundant tears, but without any loud lamentation. On inquiring presently
after, I found that this was the spot on which their tent had been
pitched in the summer, and that the bed-place on which the old woman
knelt had been that of their adopted son _Noogloo_, whose premature
death we had all so much regretted. The grief displayed on this
occasion seemed to have much sincerity in it, and there was something
extremely touching in this quiet but unaffected tribute of sorrow on the
spot, which so forcibly reminded them of the object of their parental
affection. I have much gratification in adding, in this place, another
circumstance, which, though trifling in itself, deserves to be noticed
as doing honour to these people's hearts. They had always shown
particular attachment to a dog they had sold me, and which bore the same
name as a young man, a son of their own, whom they had formerly lost. In
the course of this journey, the old woman would constantly call the dog
"Eerninga" (son), which the affectionate animal never failed to repay by
jumping