THE SCHOONER CRIPPLED. the stern-post was started, fragments of the cut-water and keel were floating alongside of us in the sea, and, to all appearances, we were in a sinking condition.
Our first duty was to man the pumps.
We were many hours among the ice, tortured with doubt and uncertainty. We had to move with great caution. The crippled condition of the schooner warned us to use her gently. She would bear no more thumps. Forward we could not go, because of the ice; retreat we must, for it was absolutely necessary that we should get to the land and find shelter somewhere. The rudder was no longer available, and we were obliged to steer with a long "sweep."
The wind hauled more and more to the eastward, and spread the ice. Although at times closely beset and once severely "nipped," yet, by watching our opportunity, we crept slowly out of the pack, and, after twenty anxious hours, got at last into comparatively clear water, and headed for Hartstene Bay, where we found an anchorage.
The damage to the schooner was less than we had feared. A more careful examination showed that no timbers were broken, and the seams in a measure closed of themselves. Once at anchor, and finding that we were in no danger of sinking, I allowed all hands to take a rest, except such as were needed at the pumps. They were all thoroughly worn out.
On the following day a still further inspection of the vessel was made; and, although apparently unfit for any more ice-encounters, she could still float with a little assistance from the pumps. One hour out of every four kept the hold clear.
Such repairs as it was in our power to make were at once begun. We could do very little without
