size to reach the vessel. Three small bergs have, however, grounded in a cluster right astern of us, and if we drag our anchors we shall bring up against them. A perfect avalanche of wind tumbles upon us from the cliffs; and instead of coming in squalls, as heretofore, it is now almost constant. The temperature is 27°.
I made a trial to-day with the dredge, but nothing was brought up from the bottom except a couple of echinoderms (Asterias Grœnlandica and A. Albula). The sea is alive with little shrimps, among which the Crangon Boreas is most abundant. The full-grown ones are an inch long, and their tinted backs give a purplish hue to the water.
DRIVEN FROM SHELTER.
August 31st, 8 o'clock, P. M.
Night closes upon a day of disaster,—a day, I fear, of evil omen. My poor little schooner is terribly cut up.
Soon after making my last entry yesterday I lay down for a little rest, but was soon aroused with the unwelcome announcement that we were dragging our anchors. McCormick managed to save the bower, but the hedge was lost. It caught a rock at a critical moment, and, the hawser parting, we were driven upon the bergs, which, as before stated, had grounded astern of us. The collision was a perfect crash. The stern boat flew into splinters, the bulwarks over the starboard-quarter were stove in, and, the schooner's head swinging round with great violence, the jib-boom was carried away, and the bowsprit and foretop-*mast were both sprung. In this crippled condition we at length escaped most miraculously, and under bare poles scudded before the wind. A vast number of icebergs and the "pack" coming in view, we were
