284 
LETTERS FROM HIGH LATITUDES. 
first discoverers very appropriately christened one of 
the higher hills in Bear Island, we suffered it to melt 
hack into the fog,—out of which, indeed, no part of the 
land had ever more than partially emerged,—and with 
no very sanguine expectations as to the result,—sailed 
west away towards Greenland. During the next four 
and twenty hours we ran along the edge of the ice, 
in nearly a due westerly direction, without observing the 
slightest indication of anything approaching to an 
opening towards the North. It was weary work, 
scanning that seemingly interminable barrier, and 
listening to the melancholy roar of waters on its icy 
shore. 
At last, after having come about 140 miles since 
leaving Bear Island,—the long, white, wave-lashed line, 
suddenly ran down into a low point, and then trended 
back with a decided inclination to the North. Here 
at all events, was an improvement; instead of our 
continuing to steer W. by S., or at most W. by N., 
the schooner would often lay as high up as N. W., 
and even N. W. by N. Evidently the action of the 
Gulf Stream was beginning to tell, and our spirits 
rose in proportion. In a few more hours, however, 
