- Head wind - sailing westward - large hummocks
of ice ahead, and on port bow, i.e. to the westward - hope
we may be able to push through.
In evening, ice gets
thicker; we still hold on - fog comes on - ice getting
thicker - wind freshens - we can get no farther - ice impass-
able, no room to tack - struck the ice several times -
obliged to sail S. and W. - things look very shady."
Sometimes we were on the point of despairing altogether,
then a plausible opening would show itself as if leading
towards the land, and we would be tempted to run down it
until we found the field become so closely packed, that
it was with great difficulty we could get the vessel
round, - and only then at the expense of collisions, which
made the little craft shiver from stem to stern. Then a
fog would come on - so thick, you could almost cut it
like a cheese, and thus render the sailing among the
loose ice very critical indeed then it would fall dead
calm, and leave us, hours together, muffled in mist, with
no other employment than chess or hopscotch. It was during
one of those intervals of quiet that I executed the
annexed work of art, which is intended to represent
Sigurdr, in the act of meditating a complicated gambit
for the Doctor's benefit.
About this period Wilson culminated. Ever since leaving
Bear Island he had been keeping a carnival of grief in
the pantry, until the cook became almost half-witted by
reason of his Jeremiads.
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