“Just one. A chilling note that was placed in a rock cairn on the island and discovered in 1859.” Perlmutter found a photocopy of the note in one of his books and slid it over for Loren and Pitt to read.

“There’s a notation that Franklin died in 1847, but it doesn’t say why,” Loren read.

“The note raises more questions than answers. They were tantalizingly close to transiting the worst section of the passage but may have been caught by an exceedingly short summer, and the ships probably broke up in the ice.”

Pitt found a map in the book, which showed the area of Franklin’s demise. The point where his ships were presumed abandoned was less than a hundred miles from Adelaide Peninsula.

“The ruthenium found in the region was referred to as Black Kobluna,” Pitt said, searching for a potential geographic clue on the chart.

“Kobluna. That’s an Inuit word,” Perlmutter said, pulling out the crudely bound manuscript. Opening the ancient parched papers, Loren saw that the entire document was handwritten.

“Yes,” Pitt answered. “It is an Inuit term for ‘white man.’ ”

Perlmutter rapped a knuckle on the open document. “In 1860, a New York journalist named Stuart Leuthner sought to unravel the mystery of the Franklin Expedition. He traveled to the Arctic and lived in an Inuit settlement for seven years, learning their language and customs. He scoured the region around King William Island, interviewing every inhabitant he could find who had possibly interacted with Franklin or his crew. But the clues were few, and he returned to New York disillusioned, never finding the definitive answers he was looking for. For some reason he decided against publishing his findings and left his writings behind, to return to the Arctic. He took a young Inuit wife, then ventured into the wild to live off the land and was never heard from again.”

“Is that his journal from his time among the Inuit?” Pitt asked.

Perlmutter nodded. “I was able to acquire it at auction a few years back, picking it up at a reasonable price.”

“I’m amazed it was never published,” Loren said.

“You wouldn’t be if you read it. Ninety percent of it is a discourse on catching and butchering seals, building igloos, and surviving the boredom of the dark winter months.”

“And the other ten percent?” Pitt asked.

“Let us see.” Perlmutter smiled.

For the next hour, Perlmutter skimmed through the journal, sharing occasional passages where an Inuit described witnessing a sledge party on the distant shores of King William Island or noted the two large ships trapped in the ice. Near the very end of the journal, Leuthner interviewed a young man whose story put Loren and Pitt on the edge of their seats.