20 ACROSS THE ARCTIC CIRCLE. 



with, while out of the blackness came the wail of the 

 angry surf bemoaning the loss of its prey. 



The wind increased toward noon, and freed us from 

 suspense. Resolved this time to give Cape Race a 

 wide berth, we ran off E. S. E., and not until I was 

 sure, by the color of the water, that Newfoundland 

 was at a safe distance, did I let the schooner fill away 

 on her course toward Cape Farewell. By this time 

 a stiff breeze was blowing from the south, and as the 

 night closed in we were running before the wind un- 

 der a close-reefed topsail. 



A succession of southerly gales now chased us 

 northward, and we hauled in our latitude with gratify- 

 ing rapidity. In a few days we were ploughing the 

 waters which bathe the rock-bound coasts of Green- 

 land. 



On the 30th of July I had the satisfaction of being 

 once more within the Arctic Circle. That imaginary 

 line was crossed at eight o'clock in the evening, and 

 the event was celebrated by a salute from our signal- 

 gun and a display of bunting. 



We now felt that we had fairly entered upon our 

 career. 



We were twenty days out from Boston, and had 

 made throughout an average run of a hundred miles 

 a day. The schooner had proved herself an excel- 

 lent sea-boat. The coast of Greenland was about 

 ten leagues away, obscured by a cloud ; we had 

 Cape Walsingham on the port beam, and the lofty 

 Suckertoppen would have been visible over the star- 

 board quarter had the air been clear. We had not 

 yet, however, sighted the land, but we had made our 

 first iceberg, we had seen the "midnight sun," and 

 we had come into the endless day. When the hour- 



