Cape North we had slept in snow igloos. From Cape North on, and during the return march, a light tent formed our shelter. From Etah to Conger, along the terrible ice-foot which borders the Grinnell Land coast, the work had been of the most arduous and trying nature, and the weather through these eternally wind-swept channels, extremely bitter. From Conger to Cape North there was a slight but imperceptible amelioration of conditions. From Cape Washington on, the glare of the summer sunlight became almost unendurable, and from Cape Jesup the east wind, blowing full in our faces, burned them till they cracked. Only the continued use of the darkest glasses kept us from snow blindness. From Cape Bryant to Conger, on the return, our clothing was constantly saturated at first, only to a little above the knees, from traversing the pools on the ice-foot; later, from head to foot, in traversing the treacherous sea-ice in front of the Black Horn Cliffs, and at Cape Bryant, and under the cliffs of Cape Sumner. Yet, in spite of all the hard work, the discomforts, the annoyances, the uncertainties, the physical wear and tear, I never felt before, I never expect to feel again, the same exhilaration of spirits, the same mental exaltation, that I felt from the time we reached and passed eastward of Cape Washington till we returned to it. It was a feeling which lifted me above such petty things as weariness and hunger, aches and pains and bruises, smarting eyes and face, and all the other irritations of serious Arctic work.

By Right of Discovery This whole grand coast, fronting the central Polar Basin, never before seen by human eye, was mine. Each jutting cape, each ragged glacier, each snow-capped mountain, each spreading fjord, had been dragged by me from obscurity, and was mine by the great right of discovery. A mild form of lunacy, perhaps, yet the feeling has been in the heart of every man who has trodden for the first of every man who has trodden for the first time on new lands, and will be in the hearts of a few more men yet, before the earth yields up its last unknown mile.

Peary's Greatest Achievement

In this journey I had determined conclusively the northern limit of the Greenland Archipelago or land group, and had practically connected the coast southeastward to Independence Bay, leaving only that comparatively short portion of the periphery of Greenland lying between Independence Bay and

Cape Bismarck indeterminate. The non-existence of land for a very considerable distance to the northward and northeastward was also settled, with every indication pointing to the belief that the coast along which we traveled formed the shore of an uninterrupted central Polar sea, extending to the Pole, and beyond to the Spitzbergen and Franz Josef Land groups of the opposite hemisphere. The origin of the floebergs and paleocrystic ice was definitely determined. Further than this, the result of the journey was to eliminate this route as a desirable or practical one by which to reach the Pole. The broken character of the ice, the large amount of open water, and the comparatively rapid motion of the ice, as it swung round the northern coast into the southerly setting east Greenland current, were very unfavorable features.

Not the Way to the Pole

The complete change of character of the coast from Cape Jesup eastward is an interesting fact to be borne in mind. Another interesting item is the comparative abundance of game observed and secured along a coast which the experience of two previous expeditions had indicated as being practically barren of animal life. Two musk-oxen were killed by me in the Cape Bryant region in the upward march, and five by my supporting party on their return. One bear, as already noted, was killed east of Cape Washington, and east of Cape Jesup forty-two musk-oxen were seen, of which ten were secured. One hare was killed in this region, a wolf seen, and traces of lemming, ermine, and ptarmigan observed. Numbers of hare were killed in the neighborhood of Repulse Harbor. 1902-Another Way to the Pole Tried

With the Greenland route eliminated, there yet remained the Cape Hecla route, and this I attempted in the spring of 1902. It is not necessary here to go into the details of this attempt farther than to note that, as a result of added experience, perfected equipment, better acquaintance with the region traversed, and in spite of the supposed handicap of its being my fourth consecutive year of Arctic work and life, the arduous journey from Cape Sabine to Conger was accomplished in twelve marches; the equally arduous, but shorter, journey from Conger to Hecla in eight more. I now found myself, after nearly 400 miles of travel in the severest part of the Arctic year, just at the beginning of my real work, the conquest of the Polar pack.

After fighting my way northward for fifteen

days over a pack of extremely rugged character, the latter portion of the journey being over ice in motion (not motion sufficient, as has been erroneously understood, to carry me far out of my course; but sufficient, by the wheeling of the floes, to open up continually new leads, and form new pressure ridges across my route), I was driven to the conclusion that further advance for my party was impracticable. Personnel, equipment, and methods were satisfactory and effective, as evidenced by our speedy and safe return, not only to Hecla, but also to Cape Sabine. When I say that I regarded further advance as impracticable, I mean that a rate of advance capable of producing the objects I had in view-namely, the Pole itself, or, if not that, a pronounced highest north-was not practicable under existing conditions, with a party of the size I had with me.

How to Go to the Pole

So far am I from considering the general proposition of advance over the Polar pack impracticable that I have no hesitation in saying I believe that the man who, with the proper party, the proper equipment, and proper experience, can secure a base on the northern shore of Grinnell Land, and can begin his work with the earliest returning light in February, will hold the Pole in his grasp.

As bearing upon the soundness of my conclusion, it is, I think, fair to note that I have already made four sledge journeys in these regions, of such length that the average airline distance between the starting point and the terminus of the four is equal to the dis

tance from the northern shore of Grinnell Land to the Pole. If it be contended that the character of the traveling is so different as to make the comparison hardly a fair one, it may be said that increased experience, improved methods, and a large party will, I believe, fully counterbalance this.

The Pole Can and Will be Reached

The proper method for an effective attack upon the Pole may be summed up in a paragraph, viz.:

A strongly built ship of maximum power; a minimum party, utilizing the Eskimos exclusively for the rank and file; the establishment of a permanent station or sub-base at Sabine; the formation of a chain of caches. from Sabine to Hecla; the establishment of a main base somewhere on the North Grinnell Land coast; forcing the ship to winter quarters there; the redistribution of the entire tribe of Whale Sound Eskimos, taking the picked men of the tribe on the ship, and distributing the others in a series of settlements along the Grinnell Land coast, with the rear on the perennial walrus grounds at Sonntag Bay and the head of certain summer navigation at Sabine, and the van at Hecla; and, finally, an advance, in the earliest returning light of February, from Hecla northward over the polar pack, with a small, light, pioneer party, followed by a large, heavy, main party, from which at intervals two or three sledges would drop out and return, until on the last stage there would be but two or three sledges left.

ning there, in double line over the clean sand, stretched the grisly track of the talons. Except for them the sand was untouched. So great an access of horror possessed me that I became, for the moment, irresponsible. Perhaps it was instinct that sent me to the sea. I ran in to my knees, dropped on all fours, and not only plunged my head in, but took great gulps of the salt water. The retching that followed cleared my brain. I was able to command myself as I returned to the body of Haynes. Yet it was still with an overmastering repulsion that I scanned the heavens for wings; and when I came to climb to the cliff's top, for a better view, three several times my knees gave way, and I rolled to the gully. Nothing was in sight. Again I returned to the body, now somewhat master of myself. A hasty examination convinced me that Haynes had been dead for some time, perhaps an hour. There was but one thing to do. I set off for the house at my best speed. Of the formalities that succeeded there is no need to speak; but following what I thought Haynes's method would have been, I investigated the movements of Schenck, the patrolman, that morning. From six o'clock to eight he was at the station. His alibi is solid. In the killing of poor Haynes he had no part. That being proved, sufficiently establishes his innocence of the Serdholm crime. Both were done by the same murderer.

Professor Ravenden is now fixed in his belief that the Pteranodon, or some little-altered descendant, did the murders. I am struggling not to believe it, yet it lies back of all my surmises as a hideous probability. One thing I know, that nothing would tempt me alone upon that beach to-night. To-morrow morning I shall load up my Colt's and go down there with the Professor, who is a game old theorist, and can be counted on to see this through. He is blocking out, this afternoon, a monograph on the survival of the Pteranodon. It will make a stir in the scientific world. Don't be worried about my part in this. I'll be cautious to-morrow. No other news to tell; nothing but this counts.

Your affectionate son,

STANFORD.

P. S.-Dad, couldn't you do something to help Haynes's people? Not financially-I don't believe they need that. If they're anything like Haynes, they wouldn't accept it anyhow. But go and see them, and tell them how much we thought of him here, and how he died trying to get at the truth. I've written them, but you can do so much more on the ground.

DOCUMENT No. 3 (B). Statement by Stanford Colton regarding his part in the events of the morning of September 22, 1902.

This is written at the request of Professor Ravenden, to be embodied with his report on the Montauk Point tragedies. On the morning of September 22d (the day after the killing of Harris Haynes) I went to the beach opposite Stony Gully. It was seven o'clock when I reached the point where the bodies of Haynes and Serdholm were found. Professor Ravenden was to have accompanied me. He had started out while I was at breakfast, however, through a misunderstanding as to time. His route was a roundabout one, bringing him to the spot after my arrival, as will appear in his report. I went directly down the shore. In my belt was my revolver.

As I came opposite Stony Gully I carefully examined the sand. It had been much trodden by those who had taken the body of Haynes to the house. Toward the soft beach and the gully's mouth, however, there had been no effacement, though there was a slight blurring effected by a mild fall of rain. My first action was to look carefully about the country to discover any possible peril near by. Having satisfied myself that I was not threatened, I set about inspecting the sand. There were no fresh marks. The five-taloned tracks were in several places almost as distinct as on the previous day. Fortunately, owing to the scanty population and the slow transmission of news, there had been very few visitors to the scene, and those few had been careful in their movements, so the evidence was not trodden out.

For a closer examination I got down on my hands and knees above one of the tracks. There was the secret if I could but read it. The footprint was in all respects the counterpart of the sketch made by Haynes, and of the impress on the Cretaceous rock of Professor Ravenden. I might have been in that posture two or three minutes, my mind immersed in conjecture. Then I rose, and as I stood and looked down, there suddenly flashed into my brain the solution. I started forward to the next mark, and as I advanced, something sang in the air behind me. I knew it was some swiftly flying thing; knew in the same agonizing moment that I was doomed; tried to face my death; and then there was a dreadful, grinding shock, a flame with jagged teeth tore through my brain, and I fell forward into darkness.

Of the events of the three days, September 20, 21, and 22, 1902, at Montauk Point, culminating in my own experience of the final date, I write with some degree of pain due to the personal element in my own attitude toward the case, and, as such, unworthy of a balanced intelligence. It is the more difficult for me to recount equably these matters, in that I was shaken, at successive moments of the dénoûment, by many and violent passions: grief, fear, horror, and, finally, an inhuman rage which shamefully rankles in my memory. Yet what I here set down is told with such fidelity as I can achieve, bearing due reference to the comparative value of the elements, and without, I trust, unnecessary circumlocution or undue obtrusion of my own sentiments and theories.

Upon the death of my esteemed young friend, Mr. Haynes, I made minute examination of the vestigia near the body. These were obviously the footprints of the same creature that killed Serdholm, the coastguard. Not only the measurements and depth of indentation, but the intervals corresponded exactly with those observed in the first investigation. The non-existence of fivetoed birds drove me to the consideration of other winged creatures, and certainly none may say that, with the evidence on hand, my hypothesis of the survival and reappearance of the Pteranodon was not justified.

Having concluded my examination into the circumstances of Mr. Haynes's death, I returned to Third House and set about embodying the remarkable events in a monograph. In this work I employed the entire afternoon and evening of the 21st, with the exception of an inconsiderable space devoted to a letter which it seemed proper to write to the afflicted family of Mr. Haynes, and in which I suggested for their comfort the fact that he met his death in the noble cause of scientific investigation. In pursuance of an understanding with Mr. Colton, he and I were to have visited, early on the following morning, the scene of the tragedies. By a misconception of the plan, I started out before he left, thinking that he had already gone. My purpose was to proceed to the spot along the cliffs, instead of by the beach, this route affording a more favorable view, though an

intermittent one, as it presents a succession of smoothly rolling hillocks. Hardly had I left the house when the disturbance of the grasses incidental to my passage put to flight a fine specimen of the Lycæna pseudargiolus, whose variations I have been investigating. I had, of course, taken my net with me, partly, indeed, as a weapon of defense, as the butt is readily detachable, and heavily loaded.

In the light of subsequent events I must confess my culpability in allowing even so absorbing an interest as this that suddenly beset my path to turn me from my engagement to meet Mr. Colton. Instinctively, however, I pursued the insect. Although this species, as is well known, exhibits a power of sustained flight possessed by none other of the lepidoptera of corresponding wing-area, I hoped that, owing to the chill morning air, this specimen would be readily captured. Provocatively, as it would seem, it alighted at short intervals, but on each occasion rose again as I was almost within reach. Thus lured on I described a half-circle, and was, approximately, a third of a mile inland, when finally I netted my prey from the leaves of a Quercus ilicifolia. Having deposited it in the cyanide of potassium jar which I carried on a shoulder-strap, I made haste, not without some quickenings of self-reproach, toward the cliff. Incentive to greater haste was furnished by a fog-bank that was approaching from the south. Heading directly for the nearest point of the cliff I reached it before the fog arrived. The first object that caught my eye, as it ranged for the readiest access to the beach, was the outstretched body of Colton lying upon the hard sand where Serdholm and Haynes had met their deaths. He was barely within my scope of vision, the nearer beach being cut off from sight by the cliff line.

I may say, without intemperance of expression, that for the moment I was stunned into inaction. Then came the sense of my own guilt and responsibility. Along the cliff I ran, at full speed, dipped down into a hollow, where, for the time, the beach was shut off from view, and surmounted the hill beyond, which brought me almost above the body a little to the east of the gully. The fog, too, had been advancing swiftly, and now as I reached the cliff's edge it spread a gray mantle over the body lying there alone.

Already I had reached the edge of the gully, when there moved very slowly out upon the hard sand a thing so out of all conception, an apparition so monstrous to the sight, that my