blankets. They were then lashed
fast, and left for time of need.

During the day, we had gradually come up with what we at first had
taken for a cape or a promontory from the mainland, but which, by five
o'clock, P.M., was discovered to be a group of mountainous islands,
the same known on the chart as the "Lower Savage Isles." The course
was changed five points, to pass them to the southward. By seven
o'clock we were off abreast one of the largest of them. It was our
intention to stand on this course during the night. The day had at no
time, however, been exactly fair. Foggy clouds had hung about the sun;
and now a mist began to rise from the water, much as it had done the
previous evening.

"If I thought there might be any tolerable safe anchorage among those
islands," muttered the captain, with his glass to his eye, "I should
rather beat in there than take the risk of running on to another
iceberg in the fog."

This sentiment was unanimous.

"There seems to be a clear channel between this nearest island and the
next," remarked Raed, who had been looking attentively for some
moments. "We could but bear up there, and see what it looks like."

The helm was set a-port, and the sails swung round to take the wind,
which, for the last hour, had been shifting to the south-east. In half
an hour we were up in the mouth of the channel. It was a rather narrow
opening, not more than thirty-five or forty rods in width, with
considerable ice floating about. We were in some doubt as to its
safety. The schooner was hove to, and the lead thrown.

"Forty-seven fathoms!"

"All right! Bring her round!"

The wind was light, or we should hardly have made into an unknown
passage with so much sail on: as it was, we did but drift lazily in.
On each side, the islands presented black, bare, flinty crags, distant
scarcely a pistol shot from the deck. A quarter of a mile in, we
sounded a second time, and had forty-three fathoms.

"Never saw a deeper gut for its width!" exclaimed Capt. Mazard. "What
a chasm there would be here were the sea out of it!"

Half a mile farther up, a third and smaller island lay at the head of
the channel, which was thus divided by it into two narrow arms,--one
leading out to the north-east, the other to the north-west. This
latter arm was clear of ice, showing a dark line of water crooking off
among numerous small islets; but the arm opening up to the north-east
was jammed with ice. "The Curlew" went in le