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my hopes untainted. Want of hope is a
taint a rotteness, and as long as
my energies keep true I do not fear
for the future. Thus I argue to
myself. It is but eleven days before
we reach the middle of our night.
After that the consciousness that every
day nears us closer to the dawing
will give a moral prop to my sick.
I have saved a bottle of Champaign,
hoarded up since September, to garnish
a dinner and play upon the spirits
of my little family. Again, I find
by my journals of animal life that by
the 9th of Feb. we may expect a chance
deer, and still earlier (in January) a
few Ptarmagan. Finally, if the worst
turns up, I am sufficiently hardened to
the climate not to fear a few days
of -50° and will find my way
to the Leiper Bay Esquimaux and in
virtue of my terrible authority as
[Nahlagak?] and Conjurer, press into service
sledges drivers and walrus
hunters. Give me health and I've
no fears.

The super abundant life of
Northumberland Isd has impressed Mr.
Petersen as much as it did me. How
fearfully it bears upon the fate of Franklin.
I could evven in August have collected
a winters sustenance of Birds and
Cochlearia, and here have this poor
party lived the live of Esquimaux with
temperatures of -50° and darkness
covering their hunting grounds.

Our own sickness I attribute
to our civilized diet. Had we plentiful
supplies of raw & frozen walrus I