84 
IMPRISONED. 
sometimes at a weary walk, and sometimes at a dog- 
trot. This is “ tracking.” 
When we could neither “ heave,” nor “ warp,” nor 
“ track,” nor sail, we resorted to all sorts of useless ex- 
pedients, such as sawing, cutting, and vainly striving 
to force our Avay into a more hopeful neighborhood. 
It was long before experience taught us to spare our- 
selves this useless labor, and even after we had become 
convinced that the periods for effective effort of this 
sort were so few and far between, it was hard for men 
of our temperaments to await idly a change for better 
things. 
We were twenty-one days thus imprisoned, never 
leaving a little circle of some six miles radius, and 
measuring our progress by yards and feet rather than 
by miles. For the rest, my journal must give its own 
picture of this season of “ besetment.” 
