to the
watchers on board the _Maid of the North_--it was drifting to the
southward on the bosom of the Arctic current. But the sun, constantly
gaining more power, was rotting the ice, and it was inevitable that
sooner or later the pack must fall to pieces and release the schooner
and its occupants from their bondage. Then would come another danger.
If the wind blew strong and the seas ran high, the heavy pans of ice
pounding against the hull might crush it in and send the vessel to the
bottom. Therefore, while longing for release, there was at the same
time an element of anxiety connected with it.

Finally the looked for happened. One afternoon a heavy bank of clouds,
black and ominous, appeared in the western sky. A light puff of wind
presaged the blow that was to follow, and in a little while the gale
was on.

The _Maid of the North_, it will be understood, lay in bay ice, and
all the ice to the south of her was bay ice. This was much lighter
than that coming from more northerly points, and when the open sea
which skirted the western edge of the field began to rise and sweep in
upon this rotten ice the waves crumbled and crumpled it up before
their mighty force like a piece of cardboard. It was a time of the
most intense anxiety for the three men.

Just at dusk, amid the roar of wind and smashing ice, the vessel gave
a lurch, and suddenly she was free. Fortunately her rudder was not
carried away, as they had feared it would be, and when she answered
the helm, Bob whispered,

"Thank th' Lard."

They were at the mercy of the wind during the next few hours, and
there was little that could be done to help themselves until towards
morning, when the gale subsided. Then, with daylight, under short sail
they began working the vessel out of the "slob" ice that surrounded
it, and before dark that night were in the open sea, with now only a
moderate breeze blowing, which fortunately had shifted to the
northward.

Here they found themselves beset by a new peril. Icebergs, great,
towering, fearsome masses, lay all about them, and to make matters
worse a thick gray fog settled over the ocean, obscuring everything
ten fathoms distant. They brought the vessel about and lay to in the
wind, but even then drifted dangerously near one towering ice mass,
and once a berg that could not have been half a mile away turned over
with a terrifying roar. It seemed as though a collision was
inevitable before daylight, but the night passe