Letters From High Latitudes By Lord Dufferin















































































 -  Had
she been a living creature, she could not have dodged,
and wound, and doubled, with more conscious cunning and - Page 83
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Had She Been A Living Creature, She Could Not Have Dodged, And Wound, And Doubled, With More Conscious Cunning And

Dexterity; and it was quite amusing to hear the endearing way in which the people spoke to her, each time

The nimble creature contrived to elude some more than usually threatening tongue of ice. Once or twice, in spite of all our exertions, it was impossible to save her from a collision; all that remained to be done, as soon as it became evident she could not clear some particular floe, or go about in time to avoid it, was to haul the staysail sheet a-weather in order to deaden her way as much as possible, and - putting the helm down - let her go right at it, so that she should receive the blow on her stem, and not on the bluff of the bow; while all hands, armed with spars and fenders, rushed forward to ease off the shock. And here I feel it just to pay a tribute of admiration to the cook, who on these occasions never failed to exhibit an immense amount of misdirected energy, breaking - I remember - at the same moment, both the cabin sky-light, and an oar, in single combat with a large berg that was doing no particular harm to us, but against which he seemed suddenly to have conceived a violent spite. Luckily a considerable quantity of snow overlaid the ice, which, acting as a buffer, in some measure mitigated the violence of the concussion; while the very fragility of her build diminishing the momentum, proved in the end the little schooner's greatest security. Nevertheless, I must confess that more than once, while leaning forward in expectation of the scrunch I knew must come, I have caught myself half murmuring to the fair face that seemed to gaze so serenely at the cold white mass we were approaching: "O Lady, is it not now fit thou shouldest befriend the good ship of which thou art the pride?"

At last, after having received two or three pretty severe bumps, - though the loss of a little copper was the only damage they entailed, - we made our way back to the northern end of the island, where the pack was looser, and we had at all events a little more breathing room.

It had become very cold - so cold, indeed, that Mr. Wyse - no longer able to keep a clutch of the rigging - had a severe tumble from the yard on which he was standing. The wind was freshening, and the ice was evidently still in motion; but although very anxious to get back again into open water, we thought it would not do to go away without landing, even if it were only for an hour. So having laid the schooner right under the cliff, and putting into the gig our own discarded figure-head, a white ensign, a flag-staff; and a tin biscuit-box, containing a paper on which I had hastily written the schooner's name, the date of her arrival, and the names of all those who sailed on board, - we pulled ashore.

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