Next summer, Franklin descended the river to its mouth, and embarking in canoes he and his followers made towards Behring Strait, from which they were ere long driven back by their old dread enemy—­starvation.  For many days on their return journey they had nothing to live upon but rock moss, which barely kept them alive.  They became so worn and ill that they could only cover a few miles a day, and Franklin fainted from exhaustion.

For eight days they waited on the banks of a river which it was necessary to pass, but which they had no means of crossing.  One of the men tried to swim across and was nearly drowned, and despair seized on the party, for they thought the end had come.  But there was one man among them who could not believe God would leave them to perish, and spurred on by this thought he gathered rock moss in sufficient quantities to preserve their lives; and, hope springing up again, they made a light raft on which they passed over to the other side.

Then Franklin set off with eight men to get assistance, whilst others remained to care for the sick.  He and three companions only arrived at Fort Enterprise.  They had to endure a fearful journey, during which they ate their very boots to preserve life.  To their bitter disappointment when they got there they found the place deserted!  Then they attempted to go to the next settlement; but Franklin utterly broke down on the way, and was with difficulty got back to Fort Enterprise.  Here they were joined by two of the party who had been left behind, the others having perished on the way.

The night of their reunion, the six survivors had a grand feast.  A partridge had been shot, and for the first time during an entire month these men tasted flesh food.  Later on, sitting round the fire they had kindled, words of hope and comfort were read from the Bible, and the men joined heartily together in prayer and thanksgiving.  Shortly after, friendly Indians arrived with supplies of food, and Franklin with the survivors of his party returned safely to England.

After this, Franklin made other expeditions, gaining fame and honour by his explorations, and was for seven years Lieutenant-Governor of Tasmania.

Then in 1845, when he was in his sixtieth year, he went out in the service of the Admiralty to attempt the passage through the Arctic Ocean.  Leaving England in May, 1845, in command of the Erebus and Terror, with a body of the most staunch and experienced seamen, he sailed into the Arctic Seas.  They were last seen by a whaler on the 26th of July that year, and then for years no word of their fate reached Great Britain.

Not that England waited all this time before she sent to discover what had befallen them.  The Government was stirred into action by the pleadings of Lady Franklin.  Expedition after expedition left our shores.  America and France joined in the search.  Five years later was discovered the place in which the Erebus and Terror had first wintered; but it was left for Dr. John Rae to find out from the Esquimaux in 1854 that the ships had been crushed in the ice, and that Franklin and his companions had died of fatigue and starvation.