2C2 
GIVING OUT. 
the land-belt. We fastened at last to the great floe 
near the shore, making our harbor in a crack which 
opened with the changes of tide. 
The imperfect diet of the party was showing itself 
more and more in the decline of their muscular power. 
They seemed scarcely aware of it themselves, and re¬ 
ferred the difficulty they found in dragging and pushing 
to something uncommon about the ice or sludge rather 
than to their own weakness. But, as we endeavored to 
renew our labors through the morning fog, belted in on 
all sides by ice-fields so distorted and rugged as to defy 
our efforts to cross them, the truth seemed to burst 
upon every one. We had lost the feeling of hunger, 
and were almost satisfied with our pasty broth and the 
large draughts of tea which accompanied it. I was 
anxious to send our small boat, the Eric, across to the 
lumme-hill of Appall, where I knew from the Esqui¬ 
maux we should find plenty of birds; but the strength 
of the party was insufficient to drag her. 
We were sorely disheartened, and could only wait for 
the fog to rise, in the hope of some smoother platform 
than that which was about us, or some lead that might 
save us the painful labor of tracking. I had climbed 
the iceberg; and there was nothing in view except 
Dalrymple Rock, with its red brassy face towering in 
the unknown distance. But I hardly got back to my 
boat, before a gale struck us from the northwest, and 
a floe, taking upon a tongue of ice about a mile to the 
north of us, began to swing upon it like a pivot and 
close slowly in upon our narrow resting-place. 
