n. Arrived at the summit, a very wide prospect over innumerable
mountains and blue sea, dotted with white icebergs, rewarded our
climb. Far below us we could see the mission-house, centre of blessed
influence, for the Eskimo village, divided into Lower Okak by the
beach, and Upper Okak on the slope beyond. Strange to think that, with
the exception of one settler family in Saeglek Bay, the nearest group
of fixed human habitations is at Hebron, seventy miles to the north.
Easier than the ascent was the descent, over rocks and stones,
beautifully variegated mosses, and low vegetation changing its hue to
a brilliant red as the autumn advances.

FROM OKAK TO RAMAH.

_Wednesday, September 5th._--About ten o'clock this morning a strong
breeze sprang up, and we speedily left behind us the friendly
red-roofed mission-house at Okak. When we entered the open sea and
turned northwards we passed near a grounded iceberg, curiously
hollowed out by the action of the waves. The seaward face of Cape
Mugford is even grander than its aspect from the heights around Okak.
It seems to be a perpendicular precipice of about 2000 feet, with
white base, and a middle strata of black rocks surmounted by
castellated cliffs. Presently the remarkably jagged peaks on the
island of Nennoktuk came out from behind the nearer headland. There's
a sail to the right of it! No, she is not another schooner; she is
two-masted and square rigged, and therefore the "Gleaner," the only
brigantine in these waters. So the two Moravian vessels pass one
another within a mile or two, the "Gleaner" on her way southward from
Hebron to Okak, whence she will take Mr. Bourquin home to Nain, the
"Harmony" pursuing her northward course past Hebron to Ramah. The
captains, who are consigns, exchange a salute by running up their
flags, but the sea is too rough to put down a boat.

_Thursday, September 6th._--We have had a rough night. This morning we
are off Hebron, but twenty-five miles out to sea. We have just passed
"the Watchman," an island which serves as a waymark for the entrance
to that station. I asked the mate, who once spent a winter there,
whether the missionaries or the Eskimoes could see us from the heights
near it. He replied that there was no doubt of it, but that he had
looked out in this direction from those hills, where no drop of water
was visible, nothing but an illimitable plain of ice stretching far
beyond where we are now sailing.

_Sunday, 9th