HEAVING. 
93 
“ Ahead of us a hundred and fifty yards is a sheet 
of water, which some of us have called ‘the lake.’ 
During the processes hy which the various floes of the 
great pack have been condensed into one unbroken 
level, some peculiarity in the shape of the floes has 
rescued here and there a little of the mother element, 
leaving it in the form of open pools or lakes. These 
form the radiating centres of the leads, which are now 
our only aveirues of escape. It is toward one of them 
that our efforts of progress are directed. If we reach 
it to-night, we may make a good mile on our dreary 
course. Such is our immovable besetment, that we 
look to ‘ a mile’ as a marked progress. 
“ Our men are now ‘ all hands’ at the windlass, sing- 
ing and heaving, ‘ rousing her home.’ The strain is 
sometimes enormous, but there is no remedy : it is 
tug or stick. We have parted two hawsers already, 
and, although some half dozen strong men take charge 
of the slack, the great cable sometimes surges from 
the snatch with such force and speed that clouds of 
smoke arise from the friction. 
“ Sending out or ‘ planting’ these cables is an oper- 
ation of no little danger. The ice is very varying in 
its thickness and tenacity, and long detours are nec- 
essary before the anchor can be placed in the desired 
position. On such parties a ducking is an expected 
consummation ; and more than once I have seen both 
man and anchor suddenly disappear together. It is 
often necessary, also, to clear or straighten the haws- 
er after its attachment, for the hummocks and other 
projections catch the rope, and, unless released, would 
divert the line of traction from the required direction. 
On such occasions the men must crawl, jump, wade, 
or swim to clear the ‘ slack.’ Operations like this are 
