



PASSAGE THROUGH THE ICE 67 



human beings ! Like the reptiles we feel wretched, stiff, and 

 uncomfortable in rain and cloudy weather, but if the sun 

 shines we wake up, shake off our gloomy fancies, and think 

 that conditions are after all not quite as bad as we thought. 

 The scenery surrounding us is marvellously beautiful. The 

 sun is shining from a deep blue sky, showing us the most 

 brilliant country God ever made. The magnificent, majestic 

 ice, dazzling white in the sunshine, with its lofty pressure- 

 ridges floating around in the azure blue water, is a sight which 

 can only be imagined by those who have been in the Arctic. 

 These hundreds or thousands of tons of ice are drifting fast, 

 floe colliding with floe, with a crash that resounds far and wide 

 over the silent ocean. They tear off large pieces of ice when 

 they grind along each other's edges, turning up immense blocks, 

 only to let them slide out and slip into the water with a splash 

 when they separate, sending a shower of spray over everything 

 around. Wherever a pressure-ridge is piled up on the edge of 

 a floe, there are caves in it showing the most delicate colours, 

 all shades of blue, from the lightest to the darkest. 



Yes, it is all very beautiful, but we feel ourselves so small, 

 so absolutely incapable of contending with the powers that 

 create, move, and dissolve these immense bodies of ice. 



More and more plainly we can see the water under the land. 

 It extends its arms farther and farther toward us, and soon we 

 hope we shall be able to make a break for it, reach the open 

 water, and then Point Barrow ! Far away to the south we can 

 see the steamers. They have spread out and are trying to 

 force their way north. It is one consolation that at least we 

 are ahead of them. 



We had some hard sailing this afternoon, and only succeeded 

 in losing about a mile, and in smashing our bow. We hoisted 

 sails and let go the line which held us to our floe, while from 

 the crow's-nest I attempted to make out a lane which would 

 lead us into the open water. But before the ship commenced 

 to answer the helm we had drifted too far, and a mismanaged 

 manoeuvre was sending the ship straight upon a large solid 

 floe. We certainly struck hard ; I was almost shaken out of 

 the crow's-nest, and looking down I saw some pieces of wood 

 drifting along the side of the schooner. That did not look 

 promising, and I sang out to lower the sails and make fast, 



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