ity of
drift-wood caused us much trouble, brought us to Cape North.[56]
Darkness had now almost left us, and on April 28 we travelled nearly
throughout the night in a dim daylight, arriving the next morning at a
small village of three huts called Yugetamil. "And it's about time,"
murmured Harding, on hearing the name. But the atrocious pun was justly
received in silence. About fifteen miles east of this we sighted
mountains, perhaps thirty miles to the southward, known to the
Tchuktchis as the Puk-tak range. The highest peak, Mount Uruni, about
3000 feet high, was visible in clear weather.

[Footnote 56: Concerning this region Von Wrangell wrote: "Drift-wood is
scarce along this coast, partly from the consumption by Tchuktchis, and
partly from natural causes. The greater part of the drift-wood found
between the Shelagskoi and the Bering Straits is probably of American
origin, for it consists chiefly of stems of pines and firs. My opinion
that the drift-wood on this part of the coast comes from America is
confirmed by the assertion of the Tchuktchis that among the trunks of
fir they not unfrequently find some that have been felled with stone
axes."]

Nearing Cape North the ice was so bad that our progress seldom exceeded
two miles an hour, but the cliffs here are quite perpendicular, so that
it was impossible to travel by land. In places they were covered to a
height of forty feet or so by the clear green or blue ice formed by
breakers of the preceding year, and the dazzling colours reflected by
the sunshine on the glassy surface of the rocks was marvellous to
behold. Nearing the cape the ice was piled up so high that I feared at
one time we should never succeed in rounding the headland. The sleds
were constantly hauled up hummocks sixty to seventy feet high, and much
care was needed to prevent them falling headlong from the summits with
the dogs. Every one had over a score of bad falls that day, and although
no bones were broken I slipped up towards midday and landed heavily on
the back of my head with my feet in the air. But for three thick fur
caps my skull must have been fractured, and for several minutes I lay
unconscious. All that day we toiled along, now scrambling over
mountainous "torosses," now wading waist-deep in soft snow, which
occasionally gave way to precipitate us into invisible holes. When, late
at night, we reached a small village of two huts (name unknown), men and
dogs were quite exhausted, and had