As the two ships separated, they signaled "good-by and good luck" with the whistles, and our last link with civilization was broken.
Since my return I have been asked if I did not feel deep emotion on parting with my companions on the _Erik_, and I have truthfully replied that I did not.

The reader must remember that this was my eighth expedition into the Arctic, and that I had parted from a supply ship many times before.

Constant repetition will take the edge from the most dramatic experience.

As we steamed north from the harbor of Etah, my thoughts were on the condition of the ice in Robeson Channel; and the ice in Robeson Channel is more dramatic than any parting--save from one's nearest and dearest, and I had left mine three thousand miles below at Sydney.

We had some three hundred and fifty miles of almost solid ice to negotiate before we could reach our hoped-for winter quarters at Cape Sheridan.