THE ICE FIGHT GOES ON 113 



by the same floe, which seemed to be endowed with 

 malign intelligence and to follow us like a bloodhound. 

 We retired to still another position, and secured the 

 vessel and finally the threatening floe passed onwards 

 to the south. 



There was no sleep for any one that sunlit night. 

 About ten o'clock the berg fragment to which we were 

 attached drifted loose under the pressure of the furious 

 wind and the rising tide. In contracted space, with 

 the ice whirling and eddying about us, we hastily got 

 our lines in and shifted to another place, only to be 

 driven out of it. We sought still another place of 

 shelter, and in turn were also driven out of that. A 

 third attempt to find safety was successful, but before 

 it was accomplished the Roosevelt had twice been 

 aground forward, her heel had been caught by a berg's 

 spur, and her after rail smashed by the onslaught of 

 another berg. 



Saturday, the 29th, was another day of delay but 

 I found some comfort in thinking of my little son in 

 the far-away home. It was his fifth birthday, and 

 Percy, Matt, and I, his three chums, drank a bottle 

 of champagne in his honor. Robert E. Peary, Junior! 

 What were they doing at home? I wondered. 



I think that none of the members of the expedition 

 will ever forget the following day, the 30th of August. 

 The Roosevelt was kicked about by the floes as if she 

 had been a football. The game began about four 

 o'clock in the morning. I was in my cabin trying to 

 get a little sleep — with my clothes on, for I had not 

 dared to remove them for a week. My rest was cut 

 short by a shock so violent that, before I realized 



