The noise, however, did not keep me from sleeping, as our igloos were on a heavy ice-floe, which was not likely itself to be broken up, most of the ice around it being young and thin.
[Illustration: ATHLETIC SPORTS AT THE LEAD CAMP] In the morning it was still clear, and the temperature was down to minus 45 deg..

Again we made a fair march of not less than twelve nautical miles, crossing in the first half many cracks and narrow leads, and in the latter half traversing an unbroken series of old floes.

I felt confident that this zone of numerous leads which we had crossed in the last two marches was the "Big Lead," and was of the opinion that we were now safely across it.
We hoped that Marvin and Borup, with their men and vital supply of fuel, would get across the "Big Lead" before we had any more wind; for six hours of a good fresh breeze would utterly obliterate our trail, by reason of the movement of the ice, and their search for us in the broad waste of that white world would have been like the proverbial search for a needle in a haystack.
[Illustration: PICKAXING A ROAD THROUGH ZONE OF ROUGH ICE] The following march, on the 13th, was distinctly crisp.

When we started the thermometer was minus 53 deg., the minimum during the night having been minus 55 deg.; and when the twilight of evening came on it was down to minus 59 deg..

With the bright sunshine at midday, and with no wind, in our fur clothing we did not suffer from the cold.