mous fishing-station of
Pond's Bay.

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

The whole coast, in most places, was lined with a sheet of ice some ten
or fifteen miles wide, to the edge of which, in perfectly smooth water,
our ship, with many others at various distances, was made fast.

Fancy a day, warm to our feelings as one at the same time of year in
England, and an atmosphere of a brilliancy rarely or never seen at home,
not a breath of air stirring the glassy surface of the shining ocean;
while on the land side lofty mountains stretched away on either side,
with the opening of the bay in the centre, the rocks of numberless
tints, from the many-coloured lichens growing on them, rising as it were
out of a bed of snow still filling the valleys even in midsummer; while
mid-way, along the dark frowning crags which formed the coast, hung a
wavy line of semi-transparent mist, now tinged with a crimson hue, from
the almost horizontal rays of the sun, verging towards midnight.

These objects also, it must be understood, appeared so close at hand,
that I could scarcely persuade myself that an easy run across the level
ice would not carry me up to them; and yet all the while they were
upwards of a dozen miles off.

Most of the watch were "on the bran," that is, were in the boats
stationed along the edge of the ice, on the look-out for whales. A few
hands only, besides myself, were on deck, taking our fisherman's walk,
with our fingers in our pockets, and the watch below were sound asleep
in their berths, when Captain Rendall, as was his custom, went aloft
before turning in, to take a look-out for fish from his crow's-nest. We
watched him eagerly. In a few minutes he hailed the deck, with the
joyful news that at about ten miles off there was a whole run of whales,
spouting away as fast as they could blow.

On the instant, instead of the silence and tranquillity which had before
prevailed, all was now noise, excitement, and hurry. The sleepers
tumbled up from below; the harpooners got ready their gear and received
their orders from the master; the boats on the bran came alongside, to
have their kegs replenished with water, and their tubs with bread, beef,
and pork; while the more eager mates ran aloft, to assure themselves of
the best direction to take.

In a few minutes five boats were pulling out towards the run, as if the
lives of a ship's company depended on our exertions. "Hurra, my lads,
hurra! give way," shouted our boat-