TRACKING. 
83 
wet, and tired, and discontented, with nothing hut ex- 
perience to pay for our toil. This is “ warping.” 
But let us suppose that, after many hours of this 
sort of unprofitable labor, the floes release their press- 
ure, or the ice becomes frail and light. “ Get ready 
the lines!” Out jumps an unfortunate with a forty- 
pound “ hook” upon his shoulder, and, after one or two 
duckings, tumbles over the ice and plants his anchor 
on a distant cape, in line with our wished-for direction. 
The poor fellow has done more than carry his anchor ; 
for a long white cord has been securely fastened to it, 
which they “ pay out” from aboard ship as occasion 
requires. This is a whale-line — cordage thin, light, 
strong, and of the best material. It passes inboard 
through a block, and then, with a few artistic turns, 
around the capstan. Its “ slack” or loose end is car- 
ried to a little windlass at our main-mast. Now comes 
the warping again. The first or heavy warping we 
called “ heaving:” this last is a civilized performance; 
“all hands” walking round with the capstan-bars to 
the click of its iron pauls, or else, if the watch be fresh, 
to a jolly chorus of sailors’ songs. 
We have made a few hundred yards of this light 
warping, when the floes, never at rest, open into a tort- 
uous canal again. We can dispense with the slow 
traction of the capstan. The same whale-line is 
passed out ahead, and a party of human horses take 
us in tow. Each man — or horse, if you please — has 
a canvas strap passing over his shoulder and fastened 
to the tow-line ; or, nautically, as this is a chapter ex- 
planatory of terms, “ toggled to the warp.” This har- 
nessing is no slight comfort to hands wet with water 
at the freezing point ; and with its aid they tug along, 
