a
couple of hours, was finally brought to a standstill by an impassable
barrier. We were now about six miles from the land, but an Eskimo
village under the Cape was plainly visible across the swirling masses of
ice which were drifting to the northward.

"I can't go in any further," cried Healey, and I now had the choice of
two evils--to attempt a landing with the aid of the natives, or remain
on board the Thetis perhaps for weeks searching for the _Portland_ and
_Jeannie_.[65] But I quickly decided on the former course, and a signal
was run up for assistance from the shore, which was quickly seen by a
crowd of natives assembled on the beach. To add to our difficulties a
breeze, which had arisen towards evening, was now assuming the
proportions of a southerly gale, and Healey impatiently paced the deck,
as he watched the Eskimo launch a _baidara_, and cautiously approach us,
now threading narrow leads of water, now hauling their skin-boat across
the drifting ice.

[Footnote 65: Both these vessels were eventually rescued without loss of
life.]

Finally, after a perilous journey, they reached us, and without a
moment's delay the expedition was bundled, bag and baggage, into the
_baidara_, for the position of the _Thetis_ was now not devoid of
danger. Amidst hearty cheers from those on board, we pushed off with
some misgivings, while the cutter slowly veered away northward on her
errand of mercy. I shall never forget that short, but extremely
unpleasant journey. At times it seemed as though our frail craft must be
overwhelmed and swamped, for it was now blowing a gale. Every moment
huge cakes of ice around us were dashed against each other, and
splintered into fragments with a report as of a gun. We made way so
slowly that the shore seemed to recede instead of to advance, for often
boat and baggage had to be hauled across the floes which now travelled
so quickly with the wind and tide that it seemed as though we must be
carried past our destination and into the Arctic Ocean. Sometimes it
looked as though we could never reach the coast, for--

"The ice was here, the ice was there,
The ice was all around,
It cracked and growled, and roared and howled
Like noises in a swound."

At times the ice-islands we were crossing were tossed to and fro by the
waves so violently that it became almost impossible to stand, much less
walk, on their slippery surface; at others, while all were paddling for
dear life, a