And there was one bad stretch where in two days they covered nine miles, being compelled to turn their backs three times on the river and to portage sled and outfit over the mountains.
At last they cleared the dread Fifty Mile River and came out on Lake Le Barge.

Here was no open water nor jammed ice.

For thirty miles or more the snow lay level as a table; withal it lay three feet deep and was soft as flour.

Three miles an hour was the best they could make, but Daylight celebrated the passing of the Fifty Mile by traveling late.

At eleven in the morning they emerged at the foot of the lake.
At three in the afternoon, as the Arctic night closed down, he caught his first sight of the head of the lake, and with the first stars took his bearings.