148 
GOOD-BY TO BAFFIN. 
would still keep them in the advance ; and we were 
igTiorant of their course and intended scheme of search. 
We had dreamed before this, and pleasantly enough, 
of fellowship with them in our efforts, dividing be- 
tween us the hazards of the way, and perhaps in the 
long winter holding with them the cheery intercourse 
of kindred sympatliies. We waked now to the prob- 
abilities of passing the dark days alone. Yet fairly on 
the way, an energetic commander, a united ship’s com- 
pany, the wind freshening, our well-tried little ice- 
boat now groping her way like a blind man through 
fog and bergs, and now dashing on as if reckless of all 
hut success — it was impossible to repress a sentiment 
almost akin to the so-called joyous excitement of con- 
flict. 
We were bidding good-by to “ye goode haye of old 
William Baffin and as we looked round with a fare- 
well remembrance upon the still water, the diminished 
icebergs, and the constant sun which had served us so 
long and faithfully, we felt that the hay had used us 
kindly. 
Though I had read a good deal in the voyagers’ 
books about Baffin’s Bay, I had strangely and entirely 
misconceived the prominent features of its summer 
scenery. There is a combination of warmth and cold 
in the tone of its landscapes, a daring, eccentric vari- 
ety of forms, an intense clearness, almost energy of ex- 
pression, which might tax Turner and Stanfield to- 
gether to reproduce them with an approach to truth. 
How could they trace the features of the iceberg, melt- 
ing into shapes so boldly marked, yet so undefined ; or 
body forth its cold varieties of unshaded white, or the 
azure clare-ohscure of the ice-chasm ! There are the 
black hills, blots upon rolling snow ; the ice-plain, mar- 
