A SEVERE GALE. 75 



will be driven out to sea, which is everywhere filled 

 with heavy ice. 



August 29th, 12 o'clock, M. 



There has been a dead calm under the coast for an 

 hour. The " table-cloth " has lifted from the cape, and 

 there is a decided change in the northern sky. The 

 light windy clouds are disappearing, and stratus clouds 

 are taking their place. The neck of the gale appears 

 to be broken. 



2 o'clock, P. M. 



My calculations of the morning w T ere quite wrong. 

 The gale howls more furiously than ever. We are 

 lying off Cape Saumarez, about two miles from shore. 

 Failing to reach Sutherland Island, w T e were forced to 

 run down the coast with the hope of finding shelter 

 in the deep bay below; but the wind, sweeping round 

 the cape, drove us back, and we are now trying to 

 crawl in shore and get an anchor down in a little 

 cove near by, and there repair our torn sails. We 

 are a very uncomfortable party. The spray flies 

 over the vessel, sheathing her in ice. Long icicles 

 hang from the rigging and the bulwarks. The bob- 

 stays and other head-gear are the thickness of a man's 

 body ; and, most unseamanlike procedure, we have to 

 throw ashes on the deck to get about. 



I can now readily understand how Inglefield was 

 forced to fly from Smith's Sound. If the gale which 

 he encountered resembled this one, he could not, with 

 double the steam-power of the Isabella, have made 

 headway against it. Were I to leave the shelter of 

 these friendly cliffs I should have to run with even 

 greater celerity ; — and, very likely, to destruction. 



The squalls which strike us are perfectly terrific, 

 and the calms which follow them are suggestive of 



