ffs was the home of innumerable birds peculiar to the
Arctic zone. There myriads of gulls, kittiwakes, murres, guillemots,
and such like creatures, made the ice alive with feathered forms.

The terrorite gun was fired with ordinary powder, and although we
could approach no nearer the cliffs than five miles, on account of the
solid ice-foot, yet our chief gun was good for that distance.

The shell was fired and exploded high up on the face of the crags. The
effect was startling. The explosion brought down tons of the frosty
marble. The debris fell like blocks of iron that rang with a piercing
cry on the ice-bound breast of the ocean. Millions of sea-fowl of
every conceivable variety darkened the air. Their rushing wings
sounded like the hissing of a tornado. Thousands were killed by the
shock. A detachment of sailors under First Officer Renwick brought in
heavy loads of dead fowl for a change of diet. The food, however,
proved indigestible, and made the men ill.

We resolved, as soon as the sun had mounted the heavens from his
midnight declension, to retrace our course somewhat and discover the
cause of the terrible outcry of the night. We had been sailing for
weeks along the southern ice-foot that belonged to the interminable
ice hills which formed an effectual barrier to the pole. Day after day
the _Polar King_ had forced its way through a gigantic floe of
piled-up ice blocks, floating cakes of ice, and along ridges of frozen
enormity, cracked, broken, and piled together in endless confusion. We
were in quest of a northward passage out of the terrible ice prison
that surrounded us, but failed to discover the slightest opening. It
had become a question of abandoning our enterprise of discovering the
North Pole and returning home again or abandoning the ship, and,
taking our dogs and sledges, brave the nameless terrors of the icy
hills. Of course in such case the ship would be our base of supplies
and of action in whatever expedition might be set on foot for polar
discovery.

About six o'clock in the morning of the 20th of July we began to work
the ship around, to partially retrace our voyage. All hands were on
the lookout for any sign of such a catastrophe as might have caused
the midnight commotion. After travelling about ten miles we reached
the creek where the bear had been killed the day before. The man on
the lookout on the top-mast sung out:

"Creek bigger than yesterday!"

Before we had time to examine the