THE OPEN SEA. 
283 
an undue reliance on the fortunes of the hunt. Our 
next land was to be Cape Shackleton, one of the most 
prolific bird-colonies of the coast, which we were all 
looking to, much as sailors nearing home in their boats 
after disaster and short allowance at sea. But, meting 
out our stores through the number of days that must 
elapse before we could expect to share its hospitable 
welcome, I found that five ounces of bread-dust, four 
of tallow, and three of bird-meat, must from this time 
form our daily ration. 
So far we had generally coasted the fast ice: it 
had given us an occasional resting-place and refuge, 
and we were able sometimes to reinforce our stores 
I 
of provisions by our guns. But it made our progress 
tediously slow, and our stock of small-shot was as 
nearly exhausted that I was convinced our safety de¬ 
pended on an increase of speed. I determined to try 
the more open sea. 
For the first two days the experiment was a failure. 
We were surrounded by heavy fogs; a southwest wind 
brought the outside pack upon us and obliged us to 
haul up on the drifting ice. We were thus carried to 
the northward, and lost about twenty miles. My 
party, much overworked, felt despondingly the want 
of the protection of the land-floes. 
Nevertheless, I held to my purpose, steering S.S.W. 
as nearly as the leads would admit, and looking con¬ 
stantly for the thinning out of the pack that hangs 
around the western water. 
Although the low diet and exposure to wet had 
i 
