Insomnia is not one of the arctic annoyances.
We never carry alarm clocks in the field to arouse us in the morning.
The first man who has had his sleep out looks at his watch, and if it is time to be on the march again, he wakes the others.

After breakfast we break camp and are out again.
I did not join the field parties during the winter moons this time, but remained on the ship, going over and perfecting the plans for the spring campaign--the sledge journey toward the Pole--and giving considerable study to the new type of Peary sledge, to the improvement of details of clothing, and to experimenting with the new alcohol stove which I had designed for the spring work--determining the most effective charge of alcohol, the most effective size of broken ice for melting, and so on.
The question of weights is a most important factor in all sledge equipment, and it was necessary constantly to study to obtain the maximum effectiveness with the minimum weight and bulk.

For relaxation, I devoted many hours to a new form of taxidermy.
About the middle of November I had a large snow igloo built on the top of the hatch on the main deck of the _Roosevelt_, which we called "the studio," and Borup and I began to experiment with flashlight pictures of the Eskimos.

They had become accustomed to seeing counterfeit presentments of themselves on paper, and were very patient models.

We also got some good moonlight pictures--time exposures varying from ten minutes to two or three hours.
On this last expedition I did not permit myself to dream about the future, to hope, or to fear.