coated with ice. The dogs are perishing with cold and wet. Three of them have already died.
September 1st, 8 o'clock, P. M.
We have once more been driven out of the Sound. The gale set in again with great violence, and in the act of wearing the schooner, to avoid an iceberg, the fore-gaff parted in the middle; and, unable to carry any thing but a close-reefed staysail, we were forced again to seek shelter behind our old protector, Cape Alexander. McCormick is patching up the wreck and preparing for another struggle.
ENTERING THE PACK The next two days were filled with dangerous adventure. The broken spar being repaired, we had another fight for the Sound, and got again inside. The pack still lay where it was before, and again headed us off. There was a good deal of open water between Littleton Island and Cape Hatherton, and apparently to the northwest of that cape; but there was much heavy ice off the island, with tortuous leads separating the floes. I determined, however, to enter the pack and try to reach the open water above. Taking the first fair opening, we made a northwest course for about ten miles, when, finding that we were unable to penetrate any further in that direction, we tacked ship, hoping to reach the clear water that lay above the island.
We were now fairly in the fight. The current was found to be setting strongly against us, and it was soon discovered that the ice was coming rapidly down the Sound, and that the leads were already slowly closing up. We worked vigorously, crowding on all the sail we could; but we did not make our point, and soon
