reets, avenues and alleys. All who have seen the sight unite in
describing it as one of the most remarkable that comes from the lavish
hand of nature.

About nine o'clock on the memorable night in question, there was a good
deal of fog driving over the ocean to increase the obscurity. This
rendered Daggett doubly cautious, and he actually hauled up close to the
wind, heading off well to the westward, in order to avoid running in among
the bergs, in greater uncertainty than the circumstances would seem to
require. Of course Roswell followed the movement; and when the moon first
diffused its mild rays on the extraordinary scene, the two schooners were
pitching into a heavy sea, within less than a mile of the weather-line of
the range of bergs. It was soon apparent that floes or field ice
accompanied the floating mountains, and extended so far to the southward
of them as to be already within an inconvenient if not hazardous proximity
to the two vessels. These floes, however, unlike those previously
encountered, were much broken by the undulations of the waves, and seldom
exceeded a quarter of a mile in diameter; while thousands of them were no
larger than the ordinary drift ice of our own principal rivers in the time
of a freshet. Their vicinity to the track of the schooners, indeed, was
first ascertained by the noise they produced in grinding against each
other, which soon made itself audible even above the roaring of the gale.

Both of our masters now began to be exceedingly uncomfortable. It was soon
quite apparent that Daggett had been too bold, and had led down towards
the ice without sufficient caution and foresight. As the moon rose, higher
and higher, the difficulties and dangers to leeward became at each minute
more and more apparent. Nothing could have been more magnificent than the
scene which lay before the eyes of the mariners, or would have produced a
deeper feeling of delight, had it not been for the lively consciousness of
the risk the two schooners and all who were in them unavoidably ran, by
being so near and to windward of such an icy coast, if one may use the
expression as relates to floating bodies. By that light it was very easy
to imagine Wilkes' picture of a ruined town of alabaster. There were
arches of all sizes and orders; pinnacles without number; towers, and even
statues and columns. To these were to be added long lines of perpendicular
walls, that it was easy enough to liken to fortresses, dung