260 
LETTERS FROM HIGH LATITUDES. 
of ice lay off the southern and western coast of Spitz- 
bergen—(the eastern side is always blocked up with 
ice)—and then bent round in a continuous semicircle 
towards Jan Mayen. That they had not failed for want 
of exertion—the bows of his ship sufficiently testified. 
As to our getting there it was out of the question. 
So spake the Sea-horseman. On returning on board 
the “ Sham ” I gave myself up to the most gloomy 
reflections. This, then, was to be the result of all my 
preparations and long-meditated schemes. What like¬ 
lihood was there of success, after so unfavourable 
a verdict? Ipse dixit , eques marinus. It is true the 
horse-marines have hitherto been considered a mythic 
corps, but my friend was too substantial looking for 
me to doubt his existence; and unless I was to ride 
off on the proverbial credulity of the other branch of 
that amphibious profession, I had no reason to question 
his veracity. Nevertheless, I felt it would not become 
a gentleman to turn back at the first blush of dis¬ 
couragement. If it were possible to reach Spitzbergen, 
I was determined to do so. I reflected that every day 
that passed was telling in our favour. It was not yet 
the end of July; even in these latitudes winter does not 
