such a crew had he not been a good man. The rest of the
crew, of whom there were eighteen, not including the officers, were of
all shapes, sizes, and complexions.

The sails had scarcely been taken in when the storm burst on the brig in
all its fury. The waves rose like mountains and followed after her, as
if they were eager to swallow her up. The sky grew dark overhead as the
night closed in, the wind shrieked through the rigging, and the rag of
canvas that they ventured to hoist seemed about to burst away from the
yard. It was an awful night. Such a night as causes even reckless men
to feel how helpless they are--how dependent on the arm of God. The
gale steadily increased until near midnight, when it blew a perfect
hurricane.

"It's a dirty night," observed the captain, to the second mate, as the
latter came on deck to relieve the watch.

"It is, sir," replied Mr Dicey, as coolly as if he were about to sit
down to a good dinner on shore. Mr Dicey was a remarkably
matter-of-fact man. He looked upon a storm as he looked upon a fit of
the toothache--a thing that had to be endured, and was not worth making
a fuss about.

"It won't last long," said the captain.

"No, sir; it won't," answered Mr Dicey.

As Mr Dicey did not seem inclined to say more, the captain went below
and flung himself on a locker, having given orders that he should be
called if any change for the worse took place in the weather. Soon
afterward a tremendous sea rose high over the stern, and part of it fell
on the deck with a terrible crash, washing Mr Dicey into the
lee-scuppers, and almost sweeping him overboard. On regaining his feet,
and his position beside the wheel, the second mate shook himself and
considered whether he ought to call the captain. Having meditated some
time, he concluded that the weather was no worse, although it had
treated him very roughly, so he did not disturb the captain's repose.

Thus the storm raged all that night. It tossed the _Hope_ about like a
cork; it well-nigh blew the sails off the masts, and almost blew Mr
Dicey's head off his shoulders! then it stopped as it had begun--
suddenly.

CHAPTER THREE.

IN THE ICE--DANGERS OF ARCTIC VOYAGING.

Next morning the _Hope_ was becalmed in the midst of a scene more
beautiful than the tongue or the pen of man can describe.

When the sun rose that day, it shone upon what appeared to be a field of
glass and a city of crystal. Every trace of the rec