462 
THE SEASON GOING. 
together invisible to us, opposed itself against our ad- 
vancing enemy, and -with a shock that vibrated to our 
very centre brought him up. Why does not the at- 
traction of these masses bring and retain them in ap- 
position ? Collisions between bergs are certainly rare; 
and my own experience, corroborated by the results of 
much inquiry among the Greenlanders and the fisher- 
men, seems to say that a union between two bergs, 
except when one is aground — ^an exception on which 
I lay some stress — is almost unknown. 
A few days after the scene I have described, we 
neared our hated landmark of last season, the Devil’s 
Thumb. But here the leads closed ; and our labyrinth 
of bergs attended us still, clogging our way, and wea- 
rying us with their monotony. Our commander had 
but one thought, and we all sympathized in it — how 
could our little squadron regain its position at the 
searching grounds? We had otherwise no lack of 
incidents. There were parhelia, intricate ones, with 
six solar images and eccentric circles of light, one of 
which had its circumference passing through the sun. 
And we had bear hunts now and then of mothers and 
cubs together; and sometimes we shot at a flock of 
birds. 
But the spirit of the hunt had left us. We were 
close upon the middle of August. Less than four 
weeks remained for us to get rid of this vexatious en- 
tanglement, press on through Lancaster Sound, com- 
plete our explorations in Wellington Channel, and re- 
turn to the open water of the bay. It was before the 
middle of September that we had been frozen in last 
year. And here we were in a perfect ice-trap, unable 
to win an inch of progress. 
We were without the Albert too. As long ago as 
