THE MALSTROM. 
331 
Loffoden Islands on onr way south, and ascertain for 
myself the real truth about this famous vortex. To 
have blotted such a bugbear out of the map of Europe, 
if its existence really was a myth, would at all events 
have rendered our cruise not altogether fruitless. But, 
since leaving Spitzbergen we had never once seen the 
sun, and to attempt to make so dangerous a coast in 
a gale of wind and a thick mist, with no more certain 
knowledge of the ship’s position than our dead reckon¬ 
ing afforded, was out of the question; so about one 
o’clock in the morning, the weather giving no signs of 
improvement, the course I had shaped in the direction 
of the island was altered, and we stood away again to 
the southward. This manoeuvre was not unobserved 
by Wilson, but he mistook its meaning. Having, I 
suppose, overheard us talking at dinner about the 
Malstrom, he now concluded the supreme hour had 
arrived. He did not exactly comprehend the terms we 
used, but had gathered that the spot was one fraught 
with danger. Concluding from the change made in the 
vessel’s course that we were proceeding towards the 
dreadful locality, he gave himself up to despair, and lay 
tossing in his hammock in sleepless anxiety. At last 
