A SUMMER ON THE YENESEl 295 



fliDclers of ice rippled from our bow. Tiie sky became 

 more overcast, and the slams were more frequent. We 

 seemed to force our way through an ocean of thick honey. 

 Gradually the dull surface changed, and became dimpled 

 over with spots like innumerable raindrops. At first 

 these pock-marks were no bigger than a man's hand, but 

 gradually they became as large as plates, and then the 

 plates drew together into cakes as wide as carpets. Miss 

 Curtis and I sat on the deck timber and watched 

 larger and ever larger " pancakes " glide past. By the 

 evening some of them were as big as lawn-tennis courts, 

 and the engine-room bell rang sharply for " half-speed 

 ahead." 



We had supper as usual, and then went on deck 

 again, for the sight fascinated us. The grey fog, which 

 had lain above the northern horizon all day, now closed 

 down completely. Again the engine-room bell tinkled 

 — this time for '* slow." We could hear the lip-lap of 

 the water against the ship's sides as the floes drifted 

 softly by. Everybody was on deck watching the ice, 

 but no one spoke. We seemed to be entering into 

 some solemn places where we had no right to venture. 

 Grim entelechies, beyond man's invocation, wrestled 

 together behind the mist. It was as if some unseen 

 powers strode southward, and the floes were only the 

 print of their feet upon the water. The sea was very 

 calm, but a thin wind was singing little evil songs to 

 itself round the mast, and a heavy rain distilled from 

 the fog and fell into the water with an incessant hush- 

 hush like the heaving of enormous sighs. Then, quite 

 suddenly, the mist parted ever so slightly, and right 



