♦ 
196 WELLINGTON CHANNEL. 
too near us, and the communioation with open sea too 
distant. 
"I was in the act of writing the above, when a start- 
ling sensation, resembling the spring of a well-drawn 
bow, announced a fresh movement. Running on deck, 
I found it blowing a furious gale, and the ice again in 
motion. I use the word motion inaccurately. The 
field, of which we are a part, is always in motion ; 
that is, drifting with wind or current. It is only when 
other ice bears down upon our own, or our own ice is 
borne in against other floes, that pressure and resist- 
ance make us conscious of motion. 
" The ice was again in motion. The great expanse 
of recently-formed solidity, already bristling with hum- 
mocks, had up to this moment resisted the enormous 
incidence of a heavy gale. Suddenly, however, the 
pressure increasing beyond its strength, it yielded. 
The twang of a bow-string is the only thing I can 
compare it to. In a single instant the broad field was 
rent asunder, cracked in every conceivable direction, 
tables ground against tables, and masses piled over 
masses. The sea seemed to be churning ice. 
" By the time I had yoked my neck in its serape, 
and got up upon deck, the ice had piled up a couple 
of feet above our bulwarks. In less than another min- 
ute it had toppled over again, and we were floating 
helplessly in a confused mass of broken fragments. 
Fortunately the Rescue remained fixed ; our hawser 
was fast to her stern, and by it we were brought side 
by side again. Night passed anxiously; i. e., slept in 
my clothes, and dreamed of being presented to Queen 
Victoria. 
" September 21, Saturday. We have drifted still 
more to the northward and eastward. An observation 
