In the Haunts of Wild Fowl 125 



steel razor had done the work, and in four 

 days the bay looked like a picture of the 

 Arctic Ocean, and our yacht like a craft 

 caught in the ice in search of the North Pole. 



We lifted her big anchors on the catheads 

 and tried to patiently wait for a thaw. 

 Each day we expected a change, but it only 

 grew worse. Two storms had met on the 

 coast and all weather charts were smashed. 



The day before this freeze, guests had un- 

 expectedly arrived from New York, and the 

 drain on our pantry had exhausted the sup- 

 ply of fundamentals. At the end of ten 

 days we were out of wood, out of coal, out 

 of oil and short of rations. Then we found 

 that goose bacon is better than Swift's or 

 Armour's. 



The whole sweep of Tidewater Virginia 

 was a white desolation of ice; the Chesa- 

 peake Bay was frozen eighteen miles from 

 shore to shore; and the ice was packed out 

 sixteen miles into the Atlantic Ocean. 



