The problem of food and the grim certainty of starvation were forced upon them with the very first examination of the caches of which Garlington had left such encouraging reports.  At Cape Isabella only 144 pounds of meat was found, in Garlington’s cache only 100 rations instead of 500 as he had promised.  Moldy bread and dog biscuits fairly green with mold, though condemned by Greely, were seized by the famished men, and devoured ravenously without a thought of their unwholesomeness.  When November 1 came, the daily ration for each man was fixed at six ounces of bread, four ounces of meat, and four ounces of vegetables—­about a quarter of what would be moderate sustenance for a healthy man.  By keeping the daily issue of food down to this pitiful amount Greely calculated that he would have enough to sustain life until the first of March, when with ten days’ double rations still remaining, he would make an effort to cross the strait to Littleton Island, where he thought—­mistakenly—­that Lieutenant Garlington awaited him with ample stores.  Of course all game shot added to the size of the rations, and that the necessary work of hunting might be prosecuted, the hunters were from the first given extra rations to maintain, their strength.  Fuel, too, offered a serious problem.  Alcohol, stearine, and broken wood from a whaleboat and barrels, were all employed.  In order to get the greatest heat from the wood it was broken up into pieces not much larger than matches.

And yet packed into that noisome hovel, ill-fed and ill-clothed, with the Arctic wind roaring outside, the temperature within barely above freezing, and a wretched death staring each man in the face, these men were not without cheerfulness.  Lying almost continually in their sleeping bags, they listened to one of their number reading aloud; such books as “Pickwick Papers,” “A History of Our Own Times,” and “Two on a Tower.”  Greely gave daily a lecture on geography of an hour or more; each man related, as best he could, the striking facts about his own State and city and, indeed, every device that ingenuity could suggest, was employed to divert their minds and wile away the lagging hours.  Birthdays were celebrated by a little extra food—­though toward the end a half a gill of rum for the celebrant, constituted the whole recognition of the day.  The story of Christmas Day is inexpressibly touching as told in the simple language of Greely’s diary: 

“Our breakfast was a thin pea-soup, with seal blubber, and a small quantity of preserved potatoes.  Later two cans of cloudberries were served to each mess, and at half-past one o’clock Long and Frederick commenced cooking dinner, which consisted of a seal stew, containing seal blubber, preserved potatoes and bread, flavored with pickled onions; then came a kind of rice pudding, with raisins, seal blubber, and condensed milk.  Afterward we had chocolate, followed later by a kind of punch made of a gill of rum and a quarter of a lemon to each man....  Everybody was required to sing a song or tell a story, and pleasant conversation with the expression of kindly feelings, was kept up until midnight.”