ity," answered Johnson, "for there will have to be a
thaw before these masses separate, and float away into the Atlantic;
besides, they are more numerous in Davis Strait, because the two
stretches of land approach one another between Cape Walsingham and
Holsteinborg; but above latitude 67 degrees we shall find in May and
June more navigable seas."

"Yes; but we must get through this first."

"We must get through, Doctor; in June and July we should have found
the passage free, as do the whalers; but our orders were strict; we
had to be here in April. If I'm not very much mistaken, our captain is
a sound fellow with an idea firm in his head; his only reason for
leaving so early was to go far. Whoever survives will see."

The doctor was right about the falling of the temperature; at noon the
thermometer stood at 6 degrees, and a breeze was blowing from the
northwest, which, while it cleared the sky, aided the current in
accumulating the floating ice in the path of the _Forward_. It did not
all follow the same course; often some pieces, and very high ones,
too, floated in the opposite direction under the influence of a
submarine current.

The difficulties of this navigation may be readily understood; the
engineers had no repose; the engines were controlled from the bridge
by means of levers, which started, stopped, and reversed them
instantly, at the orders of the officer in command. Sometimes it was
necessary to hasten forward to enter an opening in the ice, again to
race with a mass of ice which threatened to block up their only
egress, or some piece, suddenly upsetting, obliged the brig to back
quickly, in order to escape destruction. This mass of ice, carried and
accumulated by the great polar current, was hurried through the
strait, and if the frost should unite it, it would present an
impassable barrier to the _Forward_.

[Illustration]

In these latitudes numberless birds were to be found; petrels and
contremaitres were flying here and there, with deafening cries; there
were also many gulls, with their large heads, short necks, and small
beaks, which were extending their long wings and braving the snow
which the storm was whirling about. This profusion of winged beings
enlivened the scene.

Numerous pieces of wood were drifting along, clashing continually into
one another; a few whales with large heads approached the ship; but
they could not think of chasing them, although Simpson, the harpooner,
earnestly