spoke feelingly for twenty minutes. He talked of our lives
being only short spans, the length of which depends upon the will of
God; and it is the duty of each soul, he said, to be prepared to meet
its Maker.

It was a solemn moment for all. Outside the ice drifted slowly about,
thick fog settled over us, the ship's whistle sounded, and night came
on. The loneliness increased.

When the speaker had closed his remarks he asked that the quartet sing
"Nearer My God to Thee," and we sang it. Sweet and firm was the voice of
the English girl now, and when, with uplifted arm and softly spoken
benediction, the minister dismissed us, it was to go upon deck feeling
stronger and much comforted.

There was yet no breath of wind stirring. For this we thanked a kind
Providence, for, had the wind risen, our lives would have been in
jeopardy indeed. In that case the massive ice cakes would have been
blown swiftly and heavily about to crush all ships like egg-shells and
send them to the bottom of the sea.

For breakfast we ate yellow corn-bread and bacon with a relish such as
it never gave at home, and even those who had been seasick for days were
beginning to "get away" with their rations. At eight in the morning the
anchor with its rattling chain was dropped and we lay in an open spot.
An hour later there was no perceptible motion of the ship, the sea was
smooth as a carpet, and our tired captain had gone to bed. For
forty-eight hours he had not slept, nor scarcely left the bridge, and
the rest was badly needed.

Two days we lay anchored in a dead calm, waiting for the passing ice to
open a way for us through to Nome. Three ships lay near us, as well as
two larger ones out farther in the ice-fields; but the fog hung grey and
persistent over our heads and we could do nothing but wait. Another
concert was given by the musicians, and as the steamer lay gently
rocking upon the waters of the great sea, through the open front windows
there floated out to our sister ship the sweet and pleasing strains of
the violins and mandolins.

Were they telling in lively allegretto movements of our safe landing on
golden shores, and of our successful achievements followed by a safe and
happy return to home and loved ones? Or were the adagios mournfully
predicting perils, coming disaster and death? Who could tell? For
myself, I felt that whatever came to me would be in accordance with the
will and wish of a Higher Power, and it would be all right