330 
THE DRIFT. 
of registration with our own, it might have been well 
to make a careful comparison of the two with those of 
the British vessels, and with our mountain barometer 
also. The index error of this instrument on its zero 
point could have been adjusted then by reference to 
others that were just from Greenwich, and it would 
have been practicable, perhaps, to give something of in- 
creased value to our log-book records of the atmospher- 
ic pressure. Under all the circumstances, I have not 
thought it necessary to transfer them to my journal.” 
As the middle of March approached, our drift be- 
came gradually slower, until we almost reached a state 
of rest. For several days we advanced at an average 
rate of scarcely half a mile a day. We were at this 
time some seventy miles east of Cape Adair, our near- 
est Greenland shore being somewhere between Upper 
Navik and Disco ; and the idea of encountering the 
final break-up among the closely-impacted masses that 
surrounded us, or of being carried back to the north 
by some inopportune counter-current, was far from 
pleasant. But our log-line, in an attempt at sound- 
ings, showed still a marked under-draught toward the 
south ; and in a few days more we were moving south- 
ward again with increased velocity. 
The 19th gave us a change of scene. I was aroused 
from my morning sleep by the familiar voice of Mr. 
Murdaugh, as he hurried along the half-deck : “ Ice 
opening” — “ Open leads off our starboard quarter” — 
“ Frost-smoke all around us !” Five minutes after- 
ward, Henri had been summoned from the galley; and, 
carbine in hand, I was tumbling over the hummocks. 
After a heavy walk of half a mile, sure enough there 
it was — the open lead — stretching with its film of 
forming ice far in a narrowing perspective to the east 
