whether we should continue on in our course, or heave to and wait for better weather. In either case we were exposed to much risk. By heaving to, the vessel would not be under command; and, drifting through the gloom, we stood a fair chance of settling upon a stray berg or upon the ice-fields which we had every reason to suppose would, sooner or later, obstruct our progress; besides, and it was not an unimportant consideration, we lost a fine wind. On the other hand, by holding on, although we had the vessel under control, there was an even chance that, in the event of ice lying in our course, we would not be able to see it through the thick atmosphere in time to avoid it. The question was, however, quickly decided. Preferring that danger which had some energy in it, I reefed every thing down, pointed the schooner's head for Cape York, and went at it.
AN ANXIOUS NIGHT. I paced the deck in much anxiety of mind. We were traversing a sea which no keel had ever plowed before without meeting ice, and why should better fortune be in store for our little craft. The air was so thick that I could sometimes barely see the lookout on the forecastle; then again it would lighten up, and, underneath the broad canopy of dark vapors, which seemed to be supported by the icebergs that here and there appeared, I could see a distance of several miles. Then again the air became thick with the falling snow and rattling hail; the wind whistled through the rigging, and all the while the heavy waves were rolling up behind us, deluging the decks, and threatening to swallow us up. I shall not soon forget our first ten hours in Melville Bay.
At length, after a few hours of this wild running, my ear, which was keenly alive to every impression,
