bare poles. It is not a pleasing reflection—a "pack" and a thousand icebergs to leeward, and an unmanageable vessel under foot. McCormick is struggling manfully for the shore.
10 o'clock, A. M.
AT ANCHOR. We reached the shore this morning at 3 o'clock, and anchored in four fathoms water. The stern of the schooner was swung round and moored with our stoutest hawser to a rock; but a squall fell upon us soon afterward with such violence that, although the sails were all snugly stowed, the hawser was parted like a whip-cord; and we now lie to our "bower" and "kedge," with thirty fathoms chain.
And now, in apparent security, the ship's company abandon themselves to repose. Weary and worn with the hard struggle and exposure, we were all badly in need of rest. An abundant supply of hot coffee was our first refreshment. But, notwithstanding their fatigue, some of the more enthusiastic members of the party went ashore, so anxious were they to touch this far-north land.
8 o'clock, P. M.
I have just returned from a tedious climb to the top of the cliffs. At an elevation of twelve hundred feet I had a good view. The sea is free from ice along the shore apparently up to Littleton Island, from which the pack stretches out over the North Water as far as the eye will carry. There appears to be much open water about Cape Isabella, but I could not of course see the shore line. Above the cape the ice appeared to be solid. Although the prospect is discouraging, I have determined to attempt a passage with the first favorable wind.
The journey was a very difficult one, and when I
