rific speed, and was threatening every moment to
capsize us. There was no time to lose, the sails had to be lowered
immediately. Our boat was writhing in convulsions. A few icebergs we
knew were on either side of us, but fortunately the channel was open
directly to the north. But would it remain so? In front of us, girding
the horizon from left to right, was a vaporish fog or mist, black as
Egyptian night at the water's edge, and white like a steam-cloud toward
the top, which was finally lost to view as it blended with the great
white flakes of falling snow. Whether it covered a treacherous iceberg,
or some other hidden obstacle against which our little sloop would dash
and send us to a watery grave, or was merely the phenomenon of an Arctic
fog, there was no way to determine.(10)

(10 On page 284 of his works, Hall writes: "From the top of Providence
Berg, a dark fog was seen to the north, indicating water. At 10 a. m.
three of the men (Kruger, Nindemann and Hobby) went to Cape Lupton to
ascertain if possible the extent of the open water. On their return they
reported several open spaces and much young ice--not more than a day
old, so thin that it was easily broken by throwing pieces of ice upon
it.")

By what miracle we escaped being dashed to utter destruction, I do not
know. I remember our little craft creaked and groaned, as if its joints
were breaking. It rocked and staggered to and fro as if clutched by some
fierce undertow of whirlpool or maelstrom.

Fortunately our compass had been fastened with long screws to a
crossbeam. Most of our provisions, however, were tumbled out and swept
away from the deck of the cuddy, and had we not taken the precaution at
the very beginning to tie ourselves firmly to the masts of the sloop, we
should have been swept into the lashing sea.

Above the deafening tumult of the raging waves, I heard my father's
voice. "Be courageous, my son," he shouted, "Odin is the god of the
waters, the companion of the brave, and he is with us. Fear not."

To me it seemed there was no possibility of our escaping a horrible
death. The little sloop was shipping water, the snow was falling so
fast as to be blinding, and the waves were tumbling over our counters in
reckless white-sprayed fury. There was no telling what instant we should
be dashed against some drifting ice-pack. The tremendous swells would
heave us up to the very peaks of mountainous waves, then plunge us
down into the depths of the