AMONG THE ICEBERGS. 45 



ror an instant, cast one lingering look at the opening, 

 and then dropped through the companion scuttle, re- 

 peating from the " Inferno " : — 



" They who enter here leave hope behind." 



The officers were calling from below for their coffee, 

 and it was never discovered whether the steward was 

 thinking of the cabin or the icebergs. 



During four clays we continued threading our way 

 through this apparently interminable labyrinth. The 

 days passed wearily away, for the wind, at best but a 

 "cat's paw," often died away to a dead calm, leaving 

 us to lounge through the hours in a chilly fog or in 

 the broad blaze of the constant daylight. If this state 

 of things had its novelty, it had too its dangers and 

 anxieties. 



The bergs, influenced only by the under-currents, 

 were, to us, practically stationary ; and the surface 

 flow of the water which drifted us to and fro, when 

 we lost our steerage-way, rendered our situation any 

 thing but safe. They soon came to be looked upon 

 as our natural enemies, and were eyed with suspicion. 

 We were often drifted upon them, and escaped not 

 without difficulty and alarm ; and many times more 

 we saved ourselves from collision by the timely low- 

 ering of the boats and taking the schooner in tow, or 

 by planting an ice-anchor in another berg and warp- 

 ing ourselves into greater security. Sometimes we 

 tied up to a berg and waited for the wind. We had 

 hard work, and made little progress. I found con- 

 solation, however, in my sketch-book, which was in 

 constant use ; and one fine day I got out my photo 

 graphic apparatus. Landing on a neighboring island, 

 with the aid of my two young assistants, Radcliffe and 



