I looked all round the block of ice, but found no trace
of the poor lieutenant."

"What do you think had become of him?" said the doctor, much moved.

"I think that when Mr. Bellot got out of shelter the wind blew him
into the crevice, and, as his greatcoat was buttoned up he could not
swim. Oh! Mr. Clawbonny, I never was more grieved in my life! I could
not believe it! He was a victim to duty, for it was in order to obey
Captain Pullen's instructions that he tried to get to land. He was
a good fellow, everybody liked him; even the Esquimaux, when they
learnt his fate from Captain Inglefield on his return from Pound Bay,
cried while they wept, as I am doing now, 'Poor Bellot! poor Bellot!'"

"But you and your companion, Johnson," said the doctor, "how did you
manage to reach land?"

"Oh! we stayed twenty-four hours more on the block of ice, without
food or firing; but at last we met with an ice-field; we jumped on
to it, and with the help of an oar we fastened ourselves to an iceberg
that we could guide like a raft, and we got to land, but without our
brave officer."

By the time Johnson had finished his story the _Forward_ had passed
the fatal coast, and Johnson lost sight of the place of the painful
catastrophe. The next day they left Griffin Bay to the starboard,
and, two days after, Capes Grinnell and Helpmann; at last, on the
14th of July, they doubled Osborn Point, and on the 15th the brig
anchored in Baring Bay, at the extremity of the channel. Navigation
had not been very difficult; Hatteras met with a sea almost as free
as that of which Belcher profited to go and winter with the _Pioneer_
and the _Assistance_ as far north as 77 degrees. It was in 1852 and
1853, during his first wintering, for he passed the winter of 1853
to 1854 in Baring Bay, where the _Forward_ was now at anchor. He
suffered so much that he was obliged to leave the _Assistance_ in
the midst of the ice. Shandon told all these details to the already
discontented sailors. Did Hatteras know how he was betrayed by his
first officer? It is impossible to say; if he did, he said nothing
about it.

At the top of Baring Bay there is a narrow channel which puts
Wellington and Queen's Channel into communication with each other.
There the rafts of ice lie closely packed. Hatteras tried, in vain,
to clear the passes to the north of Hamilton Island; the wind was
contrary; five precious days were lost in useless efforts. The
temperature still lowere