ular that it
was impossible to walk over it, we had to carry out ice-claws, or what
may be called ice-kedges, to warp the ship ahead. The ice-claws
grappled hold of the ice, and the warp being then carried round the
capstan, or windlass, we hove in on it, just as if we were heaving up an
anchor, only that this work continued for hour after hour, and days and
nights in succession, without intermission.

Ten days passed away much in the manner I have described. We then got
into comparatively clear water for a few hours, during which time the
other ships joined us. As there was no wind, we had to tow the ship
ahead in the boats, so that there was no cessation of our labours.

"Well," I exclaimed to old David, "I suppose after all this we shall
soon get into an open sea again."

"Don't be too sure of that, or of anything else, lad," he answered. "We
have not yet got into the thick of it, let me tell you."

I found that his words were too true. The boats had been hoisted in,
for a breeze had sprung up, and we were progressing favourably, when we
came to some large floes. The openings between them were wide, and
without hesitation we proceeded through them. On a sudden these vast
masses were seen in motion, slowly moving round and round, without any
apparent cause. The captain hailed from the crow's-nest, ordering the
ice-saws to be got ready, and the ship to be steered towards one of the
largest floes close on the larboard bow. The sails were clewed up, and
the ice-claws being carried out, the ship was hauled close up to it; and
while the captain and carpenters were measuring out a dock, a party, of
which I was one, set to work with the saws.

There was no time to be lost. A moment too late, and our stout ship
might be cracked like a walnut, and we might all be cast homeless on the
bleak expanse of ice to perish miserably. The floes were approaching
rapidly, grinding and crushing against one another, now overlapping each
other; or, like wild horses fighting desperately, rearing up against
each other, and with terrific roar breaking into huge fragments.

"Bear a hand, my lads; bear a hand, that's good fellows. We'll not be
nipped this time if we can help it," sung out the officers in a cheering
tone to encourage us, though the anxious looks they cast towards the
approaching masses showed that their confidence was more assumed than
real.

Whatever we thought, we worked and sung away as if we were engaged in